Chapter 215

Your Grace, given Jon's character, how could he possibly go back on his word over a mere scrap of parchment? Moreover, he now leads the mountain clans' great army and Winterfell's reinforcements to defeat the wildling host—Lord Commander Jeor Mormont of the Night's Watch has already died—and I believe, if the surviving brothers of the Watch aren't foolish, they will choose Jon as the new Lord Commander. For a bastard—sorry to say that—he has already risen to the pinnacle of the world.

The duchess remained silent, not interrupting him, so he continued: "Moreover, you sent a letter to the Wall; I believe its contents cannot be kept secret in such a place. Ah, your expectations of him simply show how close Jon's relationship with Winterfell is—think about it, how could the Night's Watch easily relinquish such aid?"

How could I not know? If I could persuade him, I would have done so already; if it succeeded, Winterfell wouldn't be in its current state. That letter was merely an offhand remark. The duchess sighed, resting her hand on her longsword, and said: "The Night's Watch now numbers only a few hundred; without the aid of the mountain clans and Ser Rodrik, how could they possibly control so many wildlings?"

Of course not.

Therefore, I intend to appoint Rickard Hackle as leader of the mountain clans, and have the other clan chiefs take over all the fortresses along the Wall.

What about the Night's Watch?

I've said this before—I once considered abolishing the Night's Watch. The Lord Commander has already served nearly a thousand terms; I really can't see any purpose left for it. I've heard that the Gift and the New Gift are now desolate, save for a few villages that provide prostitutes for the Watch; all other hamlets and manors have been abandoned. This organization is so incompetent—why keep it around, just to wait for the mythical Others?

The manors lie abandoned precisely because of the constant raids and harassments by the wildlings!

The wildlings can cross the Wall south to raid at any time—isn't that precisely because they fail to uphold their duty to defend the land? If they're incapable, what use are they to me? The Gift and the New Gift have always belonged to the Starks; abolishing the Night's Watch would let me reclaim those lands and distribute them among the mountain clans, my followers, and any other wildlings who swear fealty, while the fortresses along the Wall could be granted to knights, earls, and brave mountain clansmen. In short, leaving such a vast territory in the hands of the Watch is utter waste.

He didn't know what to say.

The fortresses on the Wall were built by generations of the Night's Watch; they therefore ought not to belong to the Starks, the Gift...

If the legend is true, the Wall was raised by Brandon, and the Gift is also known as "Brandon's Gift"; that Brandon must have been a Stark, not a Bolton or any other name. Given that, I, as Lord of Winterfell and head of the Stark family, claim these old forts—who could say otherwise? Moreover, the New Gift was seized by the Targaryens; the Targaryen dynasty has fallen, I am taking it back—who could object? Most importantly, who could stop me?

If you've already decided, I certainly won't oppose you," Chayle said with a smile. "A lord defending his own homeland is always more eager, isn't he? But allocating the Gift and the New Gift is still a complicated task.

Compared to my bastard half‑brother, what are these complicated tasks? Having dissolved the Night's Watch, their vows are naturally void; where else could he go but back to Winterfell? Surely he wouldn't lead his wildling prisoners to attack Winterfell or settle beyond the Wall.

Your Grace, you now hold the title of Duke of Winterfell, Warden of the North—not Queen of the North—and according to common understanding, a duke has no authority to annul these sacred oaths; doing so would undoubtedly give many a pretext and embolden rebels.

What worries Chayle most is the prospect of crowning herself queen—taking the title of king would put her at irreconcilable odds with the other 'kings' of Westeros, and it's doubtful the North could even withstand such challenges. Moreover, the looming threat abroad includes the dragon‑riding Daenerys; given this lady duchess's temperament, she would never bow and learn to serve a king. For the peace of the North, it is far better for her to remain a duchess than to become a queen—especially since she can't even control the North, making the idea of her crowning herself queen a joke.

Rob Stark's attempt was no wiser either.

If the young wolf had not taken the crown, he would have had many more options at the war's outset and gained valuable potential allies to crush the true enemy; but once the ancient bronze crown was placed upon his head again, those potential allies vanished, and his cause began to founder like a trapped beast in the thorns and intrigues of the south—so close to victory yet ultimately lost, a real shame.

I know your concerns. Now, looking about, all the world is our enemy—what difference does it make whether we are king or duchess?

You surely wouldn't proclaim yourself queen just to get Jon back, would you? I recall you swore never to touch a crown before the traitors are purged—I hope you still remember that.

I certainly do remember," the duchess sighed.

"Qiongen's affair, relying only on the words on the parchment won't do," he knew what the duchess before him was sighing about, "At least three reasons can summon him from the Wall—Your Highness, words can never equal face‑to‑face talk; when he returns to Winterfell, you can slowly persuade him, and upon seeing Winterfell's present state he may develop some willingness—then you can put forward your plan to relieve the Night's Watch or other threats, and he will most likely yield."

The duchess raised her longsword and repeatedly struck the wooden planks of the corridor, making light thumping sounds, very hesitant.

"What are the three reasons?"

"He has run up huge debts in your name abroad and stirred up much trouble; shouldn't he return in person to explain himself to you? This is merely an obvious emotional reason, and I believe it is his most helpless and irresistible motive. As for the second, your sister Miss Sansa will return from the south—surely he would want to see her?"

"If that sister is Arya, he might have some motivation," the duchess finally showed a hint of a smile, "Please continue; I am still waiting for the third reason."

"Your Highness, the second reason isn't finished yet," Chaplain Chai said solemnly, "Ah, there is still another person who needs to return to Winterfell!"

The duchess realized.

Chaplain Chai couldn't help observing this legendary Stark lord. The roaring firelight shone on her face, making her look especially thin, yet also more like the jewel of Winterfell.

"I have received news from Riverrun: they say the young wolf lord's corpse was pieced together whole in King's Landing, then sent to Riverrun, and because of Queen Siene it was delayed a bit in being sent back; reckoning the time, it should arrive soon. Ah, if we hold a funeral for this 'king,' as his brother Qiongen, how could he refuse?"

"If that's the case, do I still need a third reason?" The duchess had already been persuaded by him.

"In the battle against the wildlings, the Starks and their vassals provided immense help; he surely must come here to 'explain,' right? Moreover, he did not propose settling the wildlings south of the Wall? You can use this matter as a major pretext to demand a face‑to‑face discussion, and that is the third reason." Chaplain Chai laughed, saying, "Qiongen is certainly a man of honor, but in my view he is a good man, and goodness can be exploited."

I don't understand.

"Your Highness, you cannot always yield for the sake of your brother," Chaplain Chai said with a smile, "You can make a demand: if he abandons his Night's Watch oath, you will accept the wildlings; if he refuses… I believe he will submit for the safety of those wildlings. Life is a battle—against heaven and earth, against oneself, and against all those one loves!"

The duchess glanced at him with a sideways smile, struck her longsword again, and remained undecided.

Your Highness, your brother too must understand the truth of this world.

"The truth of battle? Let me learn about it as well, Lord Chaplain!" the duchess smiled faintly.

"It is indeed the truth of battle. In the twenty‑first chapter of the Seven Stars Scripture, the old woman, when setting out from Gaetis, declared, 'You shall either win and die, or lose and live.' People did not understand, so the old woman's prophecy says that in the mortal realm there is no way to have both; to favor one is to lose the other, and vice‑versa. Those who strive for both will be scorched inside and out, losing both, as if fallen into hell."

"Hehe, will Qiongen thus be scorched inside and out?"

"Qiongen is still young," Chaplain Chai sighed, "Like pottery, he must undergo scorching to truly become useful and talented."

But he might resent me.

"Given your relationship, even if he resents, it will only be temporary," Chaplain Chai said, looking at the silent duchess to console her, "The old woman's words have a continuation—Atreus, upon hearing them, gladly fought to the death seeking victory."

Is he dead?

"Who knows? Among the Seven Gods, that warrior's common name is Atreus."