A Dance With Dragons

animals. “That thing is the size of a bull, with tusks as long as swords. Ghost would go after him if he were loose, and one or both of them would not survive the meeting.”
    “Borroq is the least of your concerns. This ranging …”
    “A word from you might have swayed the queen.”
    “Selyse has the right of this, Lord Snow. Let them die. You cannot save them. Your ships are lost—”
    “Six remain. More than half the fleet.”
    “Your ships are lost. All of them. Not a man shall return. I have seen that in my fires.”
    “Your fires have been known to lie.”
    “I have made mistakes, I have admitted as much, but—”
    “A grey girl on a dying horse. Daggers in the dark. A promised prince, born in smoke and salt. It seems to me that you make nothing but mis-takes, my lady. Where is Stannis? What of Rattleshirt and his spearwives? Where is my sister? ”
    “All your questions shall be answered. Look to the skies, Lord Snow. And when you have your answers, send to me. Winter is almost upon us now. I am your only hope.”
    “A fool’s hope.” Jon turned and left her.
    Leathers was prowling the yard outside. “Toregg has returned,” he reported when Jon emerged. “His father’s settled his people at Oakenshield and will be back this afternoon with eighty fighting men. What did the bearded queen have to say?”
    “Her Grace can provide no help.”
    “Too busy plucking out her chin hairs, is she?” Leathers spat. “Makes no matter. Tormund’s men and ours will be enough.”
    Enough to get us there, perhaps. It was the journey back that concerned Jon Snow. Coming home, they would be slowed by thousands of free folk, many sick and starved. A river of humanity moving slower than a river of ice. That would leave them vulnerable. Dead things in the woods. Dead things in the water. “How many men are enough?” he asked Leathers. “A hundred? Two hundred? Five hundred? A thousand?” Should I take more men, or fewer? A smaller ranging would reach Hardhome sooner … but what good were swords without food? Mother Mole and her people were already at the point of eating their own dead. To feed them, he would need to bring carts and wagons, and draft animals to haul them—horses, oxen, dogs. Instead of flying through the wood, they would be condemned to crawl. “There is still much to decide. Spread the word. I want all the leading men in the Shieldhall when the evening watch begins. Tormund should be back by then. Where can I find Toregg?”
    “With the little monster, like as not. He’s taken a liking to one o’ them milkmaids, I hear.”
    He has taken a liking to Val. Her sister was a queen, why not her? Tormund had once thought to make himself the King-Beyond-the-Wall, before Mance had bested him. Toregg the Tall might well be dreaming the same dream. Better him than Gerrick Kingsblood. “Let them be,” said Jon. “I can speak with Toregg later.” He glanced up past the King’s Tower. The Wall was a dull white, the sky above it whiter. A snow sky. “Just pray we do not get another storm.”
    Outside the armory, Mully and the Flea stood shivering at guard. “Shouldn’t you be inside, out of this wind?” Jon asked.
    “That’d be sweet, m’lord,” said Fulk the Flea, “but your wolf’s in no mood for company today.”
    Mully agreed. “He tried to take a bite o’ me, he did.”
    “ Ghost? ” Jon was shocked. “Unless your lordship has some other white wolf, aye. I never seen him like this, m’lord. All wild-like, I mean.”
    He was not wrong, as Jon discovered for himself when he slipped inside the doors. The big white direwolf would not lie still. He paced from one end of the armory to the other, past the cold forge and back again. “Easy, Ghost,” Jon called. “Down. Sit, Ghost. Down .” Yet when he made to touch him, the wolf bristled and bared his teeth. It’s that bloody boar. Even in here, Ghost can smell his stink.
    Mormont’s raven seemed agitated too. “ Snow ,” the bird kept screaming. “ Snow, snow, snow. ” Jon shooed him off, had Satin start a fire, then sent him out after Bowen Marsh and Othell Yarwyck. “Bring a flagon of mulled wine as well.”
    “Three cups, m’lord?”
    “Six. Mully and the Flea look in need of something warm. So will you.”
    When Satin left, Jon seated himself and had another look at the maps of the lands north of the Wall. The fastest way to Hardhome was along the coast … from Eastwatch. The woods were thinner near the