A Dance With Dragons

knights …”
    “ If is a word for fools. We have had no word from Davos. It may be he never reached White Harbor. Arnolf Karstark writes that the storms have been fierce upon the narrow sea. Be that as it may. I have no time to grieve, nor wait upon the whims of Lord Too-Fat. I must consider White Harbor lost to me. Without a son of Winterfell to stand beside me, I can only hope to win the north by battle. That requires stealing a leaf from my brother’s book. Not that Robert ever read one. I must deal my foes a mortal blow before they know that I am on them.”
    Jon realized that his words were wasted. Stannis would take the Dreadfort or die in the attempt. The Night’s Watch takes no part, a voice said, but another replied, Stannis fights for the realm, the ironmen for thralls and plunder. “Your Grace, I know where you might find more men. Give me the wildlings, and I will gladly tell you where and how.”
    “I gave you Rattleshirt. Be content with him.”
    “I want them all.”
    “Some of your own Sworn Brothers would have me believe that you are half a wildling yourself. Is it true?”
    “To you they are only arrow fodder. I can make better use of them upon the Wall. Give them to me to do with as I will, and I’ll show you where to find your victory … and men as well.”
    Stannis rubbed the back of his neck. “You haggle like a crone with a codfish, Lord Snow. Did Ned Stark father you on some fishwife? How many men?”
    “Two thousand. Perhaps three.”
    “Three thousand ? What manner of men are these?”
    “Proud. Poor. Prickly where their honor is concerned but fierce fighters.”
    “This had best not be some bastard’s trick. Will I trade three hundred fighters for three thousand? Aye, I will. I am not an utter fool. If I leave the girl with you as well, do I have your word that you will keep our princess closely?”
    She is not a princess. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
    “Do I need to make you swear an oath before a tree?”
    “No.” Was that a jape? With Stannis, it was hard to tell. “Done, then. Now, where are these men?”
    “You’ll find them here.” Jon spread his burned hand across the map, west of the kingsroad and south of the Gift.
    “Those mountains?” Stannis grew suspicious. “I see no castles marked there. No roads, no towns, no villages.”
    “The map is not the land, my father often said. Men have lived in the high valleys and mountain meadows for thousands of years, ruled by their clan chiefs. Petty lords, you would call them, though they do not use such titles amongst themselves. Clan champions fight with huge two-handed greatswords, while the common men sling stones and batter one another with staffs of mountain ash. A quarrelsome folk, it must be said. When they are not fighting one another, they tend their herds, fish the Bay of Ice, and breed the hardiest mounts you’ll ever ride.”
    “And they will fight for me, you believe?”
    “If you ask them.”
    “Why should I beg for what is owed me?”
    “ Ask, I said, not beg. ” Jon pulled back his hand. “It is no good sending messages. Your Grace will need to go to them yourself. Eat their bread and salt, drink their ale, listen to their pipers, praise the beauty of their daughters and the courage of their sons, and you’ll have their swords. The clans have not seen a king since Torrhen Stark bent his knee. Your coming does them honor. Command them to fight for you, and they will look at one another and say, ‘Who is this man? He is no king of mine.’ ”
    “How many clans are you speaking of?”
    “Two score, small and large. Flint, Wull, Norrey, Liddle … win Old Flint and Big Bucket, the rest will follow.”
    “Big Bucket ?”
    “The Wull. He has the biggest belly in the mountains, and the most men. The Wulls fish the Bay of Ice and warn their little ones that ironmen will carry them off if they don’t behave. To reach them Your Grace must pass through the Norrey’s lands, however. They live the nearest to the Gift and have always been good friends to the Watch. I could give you guides.”
    “Could?” Stannis missed little. “Or will?”
    “Will. You’ll need them. And some sure-footed garrons too. The paths up there are little more than goat tracks.”
    “Goat tracks?” The king’s eyes narrowed. “I speak of moving swiftly, and you waste my time with goat tracks ?”
    “When the Young Dragon conquered Dorne, he used a goat track to bypass the Dornish watchtowers on the