A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

wild white roses, he
heard something rustling in the underbrush.
“Ghost,”
he called out.
“Ghost, to me.”
    But it was Dywen who emerged from the greenery, forking a shaggy grey garron
with Grenn ahorse beside him. The Old Bear had deployed outriders to either
side of the main column, to screen their march and warn of the approach of any
enemies, and even there he took no chances, sending the men out in
pairs.
    â€œAh, it’s you, Lord Snow.” Dywen smiled an oaken smile; his teeth were carved
of wood, and fit badly. “Thought me and the boy had us one o’ them Others to
deal with. Lose your wolf?”
    â€œHe’s off hunting.” Ghost did not like to travel with the column, but he
would not be far. When they made camp for the night, he’d find his way to Jon
at the Lord Commander’s tent.
    â€œFishing, I’d call it, in this wet,” Dywen said.
    â€œMy mother always said rain was good for growing crops,” Grenn put in
hopefully.
    â€œAye, a good crop of mildew,” Dywen said. “The best thing about a rain like
this, it saves a man from taking baths.” He made a clacking sound on his
wooden teeth.
    â€œBuckwell’s found Craster,” Jon told them.
    â€œHad he lost him?” Dywen chuckled. “See that you young bucks don’t go nosing
about Craster’s wives, you hear?”
    Jon smiled. “Want them all for yourself, Dywen?”
    Dywen clacked his teeth some more. “Might be I do. Craster’s got ten fingers
and one cock, so he don’t count but to eleven. He’d never miss a
couple.”
    â€œHow many wives does he have, truly?” Grenn asked.
    â€œMore’n you ever will, brother. Well, it’s not so hard when you breed your
own. There’s your beast, Snow.”
    Ghost was trotting along beside Jon’s horse with tail held high, his white fur
ruffed up thick against the rain. He moved so silently Jon could not have said
just when he appeared. Grenn’s mount shied at the scent of him; even now, after
more than a year, the horses were uneasy in the presence of the direwolf.
“With me, Ghost.” Jon spurred off to Craster’s Keep.
    He had never thought to find a stone castle on the far side of the Wall, but he
had
pictured some sort of motte-and-bailey with a wooden palisade and
a timber tower keep. What they found instead was a midden heap, a pigsty, an
empty sheepfold, and a windowless daub-and-wattle hall scarce worthy of the
name. It was

long and low, chinked together from logs and roofed with sod. The compound
stood atop a rise too modest to name a hill, surrounded by an earthen dike.
Brown rivulets flowed down the slope where the rain had eaten gaping holes in
the defenses, to join a rushing brook that curved around to the north, its
thick waters turned into a murky torrent by the rains.
    On the southwest, he found an open gate flanked by a pair of animal skulls on
high poles: a bear to one side, a ram to the other. Bits of flesh still clung
to the bear skull, Jon noted as he joined the line riding past. Within, Jarmen
Buckwell’s scouts and men from Thoren Smallwood’s van were setting up horse
lines and struggling to raise tents. A host of piglets rooted about three huge
sows in the sty. Nearby, a small girl pulled carrots from a garden, naked in
the rain, while two women tied a pig for slaughter. The animal’s squeals were
high and horrible, almost human in their distress. Chett’s hounds barked wildly
in answer, snarling and snapping despite his curses, with a pair of Craster’s
dogs barking back. When they saw Ghost, some of the dogs broke off and ran,
while others began to bay and growl. The direwolf ignored them, as did
Jon.
    Well, thirty of us will be warm and dry,
Jon thought once he’d gotten
a good look at the hall.
Perhaps as many as fifty.
The place was much
too small to sleep two hundred men, so most would need to remain outside. And
where to put them? The rain had turned half the compound yard to ankle-deep
puddles and the rest to sucking mud. Another dismal night was in prospect.
    The Lord Commander had entrusted his mount to Dolorous Edd. He was
cleaning mud out of the horse’s hooves as Jon dismounted. “Lord Mormont’s in
the hall,” he announced. “He said for you to join him. Best leave the wolf
outside, he looks hungry enough to eat one of