A Game of Thrones Chapter Twenty-one

TyrionAre you certain that you must leave us so curtly? the ecclesiastic commandant entreated him.Past certain, superior Mormont, Tyrion replied. My brother Jaime forget be wondering what has become of me. He may decide that you wee convinced me to re location the pitch-black.Would that I could. Mormont picked up a screak pincer and cracked it in his fist. honest-to-god as he was, the churchman commander legato had the strength of a bear. Youre a cunning man, Tyrion. We turn over take up of workforce of your sort on the W solely t anile.Tyrion grinned. because I sh every(prenominal) scour the heptad Kingdoms for dwarfs and ship them all to you, churchman Mormont. As they laughed, he sucked the meat from a crab leg and r to each whizzed for a nonher. The crabs had arrived from Eastwatch l wholenesssome(prenominal) this morning, packed in a barrel of bump, and they were succulent.Ser Alliser Thorne was the only man at tabularize who did non so much as crack a sinternational nautical mile. Lannister mocks us.Only you, Ser Alliser, Tyrion express. This term the joke round the table had a nervous, uncertain quality to it.Thornes black look fixed on Tyrion with loathing. You throw off a bold tongue for soul who is less than half a man. possibly you and I should visit the wiz thousand together.Why? asked Tyrion. The crabs argon here.The remark brought to a greater extent guffaws from the others. Ser Alliser s similarlyd up, his mouth a tight line. Come and make your japes with steel in your break.Tyrion looked pointedly at his right hand. Why, I have steel in my hand, Ser Alliser, although it appears to be a crab fork. Shall we delinquentl? He hopped up on his chair and began scoke at Thornes chest with the tiny fork. Roars of laughter filled the tower agency. Bits of crab flew from the Lord Commanders mouth as he began to gasp and choke. Even his guttle joined in, cawing loudly from above the window. Duel Duel DuelSer Alliser Thorne walked from the room so stiffly it looked as though he had a pricker up his only whent.Mormont was salvage gasping for breath. Tyrion pounded him on the back. To the victor goes the spoils, he called out. I deed of conveyance Thornes sh atomic number 18 of the crabs.Finally the Lord Commander recovered himself. You atomic number 18 a wicked man, to provoke our Ser Alliser so, he s insentiented.Tyrion seated himself and withalk a sip of wine. If a man paints a target on his chest, he should expect that in the beginning or later someone leave loose an arrow at him. I have detectn dead men with more than(prenominal) humor than your Ser Alliser.not so, objected the Lord Steward, Bowen fen, a man as round and red as a pomegranate. You ought to hear the droll names he attains the lads he trains.Tyrion had comprehend a few of those droll names. Ill wager the lads have a few names for him as well, he verbalize. Chip the ice off your eye, my intimately noblemans. Se r Alliser Thorne should be muc exponent out your stables, not drilling your fresh warriors.The maintain has no shortage of stableboys, Lord Mormont grumbled. That seems to be all they send us these days. Stableboys and overturn thieves and rapers. Ser Alliser is an anointed knight, one of the few to take the black since I have been Lord Commander. He fought bravely at Kings Landing.On the wrong placement, Ser Jaremy Rykker commented dryly. I ought to make love, I was on that point on the battlements beside him. Tywin Lannister gave us a splendid choice. Take the black, or see our heads on spikes before purgefall. No offense intended, Tyrion.None taken, Ser Jaremy. My cause is very fond of spiked heads, especially those of people who have irritated him in some fashion. And a face as noble as yours, well, no doubt he axiom you decorating the city smother above the Kings Gate. I think you would have looked very striking up there. convey you, Ser Jaremy replied with a sardoni c smile.Lord Commander Mormont cleared his throat. Sometimes I fear Ser Alliser saw you true, Tyrion. You do mock us and our noble draw a bead on here.Tyrion shrugged. We all need to be mocked from time to time, Lord Mormont, lest we start to take ourselves too seriously. more wine, please. He held out his cup.As Rykker filled it for him, Bowen Marsh said, You have a nifty thirst for a small man.Oh, I think that Lord Tyrion is quite a large man, Maester Aemon said from the dust-covered end of the table. He spoke softly, besides the high officers of the Nights Watch all strike down quiet, the better to hear what the ancient had to say. I think he is a giant come among us, here at the end of the world.Tyrion answered gently, Ive been called numerous things, my noble, moreover giant is seldom one of them.Nonetheless, Maester Aemon said as his clouded, achromatic eyes moved to Tyrions face, I think it is true.For once, Tyrion Lannister install himself at a loss for words. He could only bow his head politely and say, You are too kind, Maester Aemon.The blind man smiled. He was a tiny thing, purse and hairless, shrunken beneath the free weight of a hundred years so his maesters collar with its links of many metals hung loose to the highest degree his throat. I have been called many things, my lord, he said, but kind is seldom one of them. This time Tyrion himself led the laughter.Much later, when the serious business of eating was done and the others had left, Mormont offered Tyrion a chair beside the fire and a cup of mulled spirits so upstanding they brought tears to his eyes. The kingsroad can be perilous this far north, the Lord Commander told him as they drank.I have Jyck and Morrec, Tyrion said, and Yoren is riding federation again.Yoren is only one man. The Watch shall escort you as far as wintertimefell, Mormont announced in a tone that brooked no argument. Three men should be sufficient.If you insist, my lord, Tyrion said. You exponent se nd young reverse. He would be glad for a discover to see his brothers.Mormont fr haveed through his thick grey beard. degree centigrade? Oh, the Stark bastard. I think not. The young ones need to forget the lives they left behind them, the brothers and mothers and all that. A visit home would only stir up feelings topper left alone. I know these things. My own blood kin . . . my sister Maege rules get upIsland now, since my sons dishonor. I have nieces I have never seen. He took a swallow. Besides, Jon Snow is only a boy. You shall have trio strong swords, to persevere you safe.I am touched by your concern, Lord Mormont. The strong alcohol addiction was making Tyrion light-headed, but not so drunk that he did not realize that the Old Bear wanted something from him. I hope I can repay your kindness.You can, Mormont said bluntly. Your sister sits beside the king. Your brother is a great knight, and your suffer the most powerful lord in the Seven Kingdoms. call to them for us . discern them of our need here. You have seen for yourself, my lord. The Nights Watch is dying. Our strength is less than a thousand now. Six hundred here, deuce hundred in the ShadowTower, even fewer at Eastwatch, and a scant third of those fighting men. The ring is a hundred leagues ache. Think on that. Should an attack come, I have three men to defend each mile of wall.Three and a third, Tyrion said with a yawn.Mormont scarcely seemed to hear him. The old man warm his hands before the fire. I sent Benjen Stark to search by and by Yohn Royces son, lost on his first ranging. The Royce boy was green as summertime grass, yet he insisted on the honor of his own command, saying it was his due as a knight. I did not wish to offend his lord father, so I yielded. I sent him out with two men I deemed as good as any in the Watch. More fool I.Fool, the devour agreed. Tyrion glanced up. The bird peered down at him with those beady black eyes, ruffling its wings. Fool, it called again. D oubtless old Mormont would take it amiss if he throttled the creature. A pity.The Lord Commander took no notice of the irritating bird. Gared was near as old as I am and longer on the bulwark, he went on, yet it would seem he forswore himself and fled. I should never have supposed it, not of him, but Lord Eddard sent me his head from Winterfell. Of Royce, there is no word. One apostate and two men lost, and now Ben Stark too has gone missing. He sighed copiously. Who am I to send searching after him? In two years I depart be seventy. Too old and too weary for the burden I bear, yet if I set it down, who will pick it up? Alliser Thorne? Bowen Marsh? I would have to be as blind as Maester Aemon not to see what they are. The Nights Watch has become an troops of sullen boys and degenerate old men. Apart from the men at my table tonight, I have perhaps twenty who can read, and even fewer who can think, or plan, or lead. Once the Watch spent its summers building, and each Lord Comm ander raised the skirt high than he found it. Now it is all we can do to stay alive.He was in deadly earnest, Tyrion realized. He mat faintly embarrassed for the old man. Lord Mormont had spent a good part of his life on the Wall, and he needed to believe if those years were to have any meaning. I anticipate, the king will hear of your need, Tyrion said stir upy, and I will speak to my father and my brother Jaime as well. And he would. Tyrion Lannister was as good as his word. He left the rest unsaid that King Robert would ignore him, Lord Tywin would ask if he had taken leave of his senses, and Jaime would only laugh.You are a young man, Tyrion, Mormont said. How many winters have you seen?He shrugged. Eight, nine. I misremember.And all of them short.As you say, my lord. He had been born in the dead of winter, a terrible cruel one that the maesters said had perished near three years, but Tyrions earliest memories were of spring.When I was a boy, it was said that a long summer always meant a long winter to come. This summer has beared nine years, Tyrion, and a tenth will soon be upon us. Think on that.When I was a boy, Tyrion replied, my wet value told me that one day, if men were good, the gods would give the world a summer without ending. Perhaps weve been better than we thought, and the Great Summer is finally at hand. He grinned.The Lord Commander did not seem amused. You are not fool luxuriant to believe that, my lord. Already the days wax shorter. There can be no mistake, Aemon has had letters from the Citadel, findings in accord with his own. The end of summer stares us in the face. Mormont reached out and clutched Tyrion tightly by the hand. You must make them chthonianstand. I tell you, my lord, the shadow is coming. There are wild things in the woods, direwolves and mammoths and cytosine bears the size of aurochs, and I have seen darker shapes in my dreams.In your dreams, Tyrion echoed, thinking how earnestly he needed another strong dr ink.Mormont was deaf to the edge in his vowel system. The fisherfolk near Eastwatch have glimpsed duster walkers on the shore.This time Tyrion could not support his tongue. The fisherfolk of Lannisport often glimpse merlings.Denys Mallister writes that the mountain people are moving south, slip yesteryear the ShadowTower in numbers greater than ever before. They are running, my lord . . . but running from what? Lord Mormont moved to the window and stared out into the night. These are old bones, Lannister, but they have never felt a frigidness ilk this. spread abroad the king what I say, I pray you. Winter is coming, and when the Long Night falls, only the Nights Watch will stand mingled with the realm and the darkness that sweeps from the north. The gods help us all if we are not ready.The gods help me if I do not get some pile tonight. Yoren is determined to ride at first light. Tyrion got to his feet, sleepy from wine and tired of doom. I thank you for all the courtesies you have done me, Lord Mormont.Tell them, Tyrion. Tell them and make them believe. That is all the thanks I need. He whistled, and his raven flew to him and perched on his shoulder. Mormont smiled and gave the bird some corn from his pocket, and that was how Tyrion left him.It was bitter cold outside. Bundled thickly in his skins, Tyrion Lannister pulled on his gloves and nodded to the poor frozen wretches standing watch outside the Commanders Keep. He set off across the yard for his own chambers in the Kings Tower, walking as briskly as his legs could manage. Patches of snow crunched beneath his feet as his boots broke the nights crust, and his breath steamed before him exchangeable a banner. He shoved his hands into his armpits and walked faster, praying that Morrec had remembered to warm his bed with hot bricks from the fire. rat the Kings Tower, the Wall glimmered in the light of the moon, immense and mysterious. Tyrion pulleyped for a hour to look up at it. His legs ached of cold and haste.Suddenly a other madness took hold of him, a yearning to look once more off the end of the world. It would be his last chance, he thought tomorrow he would ride south, and he could not imagine why he would ever want to return to this frozen desolation. The Kings Tower was before him, with its promise of warmth and a soft bed, yet Tyrion found himself walking past it, toward the vast pale palisade of the Wall.A wooden stair ascended the south face, anchored on huge rough-hewn beams sunk deep into the ice and frozen in place. Back and forth it switched, clawing its way upward as crooked as a bolt of lightning. The black brothers assured him that it was much stronger than it looked, but Tyrions legs were cramping too badly for him to even contemplate the ascent. He went instead to the iron coop in beside the well, clambered inside, and yanked hard on the bell rope, three quick pulls.He had to lodge what seemed an eternity, standing there inside the bars with the Wall to his back. Long becoming for Tyrion to begin to wonder why he was doing this. He had just about decided to forget his sudden whim and go to bed when the detain in gave a jerk and began to ascend.He moved upward slowly, by fits and starts at first, thus more smoothly. The ground fell away beneath him, the cage swung, and Tyrion wrapped his hands around the iron bars. He could feel the cold of the metal even through his gloves. Morrec had a fire burning in his room, he noted with approval, but the Lord Commanders tower was dark. The Old Bear had more sense than he did, it seemed.Then he was above the towers, still inching his way upward. stronghold Black lay below him, etched in moonlight. You could see how stark and empty it was from up here windowless keeps, crumbling walls, courtyards choked with unordered stone. out-of-the-way(prenominal)ther off, he could see the lights of Moles Town, the little village half a league south along the kingsroad, and here and there the bright peek of moonlight on water where icy streams descended from the mountain heights to veer across the plains. The rest of the world was a bleak emptiness of inhospitable hills and rocky fields spotted with snow.Finally a thick voice behind him said, Seven hells, its the dwarf, and the cage jerked to a sudden stop and hung there, swing music slowly back and forth, the ropes creaking.Bring him in, damn it. There was a let loose and a loud groaning of wood as the cage slid sideways and and then the Wall was beneath him. Tyrion waited until the swinging had stopped before he pushed gift the cage door and hopped down onto the ice. A heavy figure in black was leaning on the winch, while a second held the cage with a gloved hand. Their faces were muffled in woolen scarves so only their eyes showed, and they were plump with layers of wool and flog, black on black. And what will you be wanting, this time of night? the one by the winch asked.A last look.The men exchanged sour gl ances. Look all you want, the other one said. Just have a care you dont fall off, little man. The Old Bear would have our hides. A small wooden shack stood under the great crane, and Tyrion saw the dull glow of a brazier and felt a brief gust of warmth when the winch men unfastened the door and went back inside. And then he was alone.It was bitingly cold up here, and the wind pulled at his clothes alike(p) an insistent lover. The top of the Wall was wider than the kingsroad often was, so Tyrion had no fear of falling, although the footing was slicker than he would have liked. The brothers spread crushed stone across the walkways, but the weight of countless footsteps would melt the Wall beneath, so the ice would seem to grow around the gravel, swallowing it, until the path was bare again and it was time to crush more stone.Still, it was nothing that Tyrion could not manage. He looked off to the east and west, at the Wall stretching before him, a vast white road with no beginning a nd no end and a dark abyss on either side. West, he decided, for no special reason, and he began to walk that way, pursuance the pathway nearest the north edge, where the gravel looked freshest.His bare cheeks were ruddy with the cold, and his legs complained more loudly with every step, but Tyrion ignored them. The wind swirled around him, gravel crunched beneath his boots, while ahead the white ribbon followed the lines of the hills, rising higher and higher, until it was lost beyond the western horizon. He passed a massive catapult, as tall as a city wall, its base sunk deep into the Wall. The throwing arm had been taken off for repairs and then forgotten it lay there like a broken toy, half-embedded in the ice.On the far side of the catapult, a muffled voice called out a challenge. Who goes there? defyTyrion stopped. If I halt too long Ill freeze in place, Jon, he said as a shaggy pale shape slid toward him taciturnly and sniffed at his furs. Hello, signature.Jon Snow moved c loser. He looked bigger and heavier in his layers of fur and leather, the hood of his cloak pulled down over his face. Lannister, he said, yanking loose the scarf to uncover his mouth. This is the last place I would have expected to see you. He carried a heavy putz tipped in iron, taller than he was, and a sword hung at his side in a leather sheath. Across his chest was a gleaming black warhorn, banded with silver.This is the last place I would have expected to be seen, Tyrion admitted. I was captured by a whim. If I touch Ghost, will he chew my hand off?Not with me here, Jon promised.Tyrion scratched the white wolf behind the ears. The red eyes watched him impassively. The beast came up as high as his chest now. another(prenominal) year, and Tyrion had the gloomy feeling hed be looking up at him. What are you doing up here tonight? he asked. Besides freezing your humans off . . . I have drawn night guard, Jon said. Again. Ser Alliser has kindly set up for the watch commander to take a special interest in me. He seems to think that if they keep me awake half the night, Ill fall unconscious during morning drill. So far I have disappointed him.Tyrion grinned. And has Ghost learned to juggle yet?No, said Jon, smiling, but Grenn held his own against Halder this morning, and Pyp is no longer dropping his sword quite so often as he did.Pyp?Pypar is his real name. The small boy with the large ears. He saw me working with Grenn and asked for help. Thorne had never even shown him the proper way to grip a sword. He turned to look north. I have a mile of Wall to guard. Will you walk with me?If you walk slowly, Tyrion said.The watch commander tells me I must walk, to keep my blood from freezing, but he never said how fast.They walked, with Ghost pacing along beside Jon like a white shadow. I leave on the morrow, Tyrion said.I know. Jon sounded strangely sad.I plan to stop at Winterfell on the way south. If there is any message that you would like me to deliver . . . Tell Robb that Im going to command the Nights Watch and keep him safe, so he readiness as well take up needlework with the girls and have Mikken melt down his sword for horseshoes.Your brother is bigger than me, Tyrion said with a laugh. I decline to deliver any message that might get me killed.Rickon will ask when Im coming home. Try to explain where Ive gone, if you can. Tell him he can have all my things while Im away, hell like that. stack seemed to be asking a great deal of him today, Tyrion Lannister thought. You could put all this in a letter, you know.Rickon cant read yet. Bran . . . He stopped suddenly. I dont know what message to send to Bran. Help him, Tyrion.What help could I give him? I am no maester, to ease his pain. I have no spells to give him back his legs.You gave me help when I needed it, Jon Snow said.I gave you nothing, Tyrion said. Words.Then give your words to Bran too.Youre asking a lame man to see a cripple how to dance, Tyrion said. However sincere the lesson, the result is likely to be grotesque. Still, I know what it is to love a brother, Lord Snow. I will give Bran whatever small help is in my power.Thank you, my lord of Lannister. He pulled off his glove and offered his bare hand. Friend.Tyrion found himself oddly touched. most(prenominal) of my kin are bastards, he said with a wry smile, but youre the first Ive had to friend. He pulled a glove off with his teeth and clasped Snow by the hand, flesh against flesh. The boys grip was firm and strong.When he had donned his glove again, Jon Snow turned abruptly and walked to the low, icy northern parapet. Beyond him the Wall fell away sharply beyond him there was only the darkness and the wild. Tyrion followed him, and side by side they stood upon the edge of the world.The Nights Watch permitted the forest to come no closer than half a mile of the north face of the Wall. The thickets of ironwood tree and sentinel and oak that had once grown there had been harvested centuries ago, to create a broad swath of open ground through which no oppositeness could hope to pass unseen. Tyrion had heard that elsewhere along the Wall, between the three fortresses, the wildwood had come creeping back over the decades, that there were places where grey-green sentinels and pale white weirwoods had taken root in the shadow of the Wall itself, but Castle Black had a prodigious appetite for firewood, and here the forest was still kept at bay by the axes of the black brothers.It was never far, though. From up here Tyrion could see it, the dark trees looming beyond the stretch of open ground, like a second wall built parallel to the first, a wall of night. Few axes had ever swung in that black wood, where even the moonlight could not penetrate the ancient tangle of root and thorn and grasping limb. bulge there the trees grew huge, and the rangers said they seemed to brood and knew not men. It was small wonder the Nights Watch named it the haunted forest.As he stood there and lo oked at all that darkness with no fires burning anywhere, with the wind blowing and the cold like a spear in his guts, Tyrion Lannister felt as though he could almost believe the talk of the Others, the enemy in the night. His jokes of grumkins and snarks no longer seemed quite so droll.My uncle is out there, Jon Snow said softly, leaning on his spear as he stared off into the darkness. The first night they sent me up here, I thought, Uncle Benjen will ride back tonight, and Ill see him first and blow the horn. He never came, though. Not that night and not any night.Give him time, Tyrion said.Far off to the north, a wolf began to howl. Another voice picked up the call, then another. Ghost cocked his head and listened. If he doesnt come back, Jon Snow promised, Ghost and I will go find him. He put his hand on the direwolfs head.I believe you, Tyrion said, but what he thought was, And who will go find you? He shivered.