A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

down all about
them, a slower sort of rain with its own soft music. North of the compound, the
brook was in full spate, choked with leaves and bits of wood, but the scouts
had found where the ford lay and the column was able to splash across. The
water ran as high as a horse’s belly. Ghost swam, emerging on the bank with his
white fur dripping brown. When he shook, spraying mud and water in all
directions, Mormont said nothing, but on his shoulder the raven
screeched.
    â€œMy lord,” Jon said quietly as the wood closed in around them once more.
“Craster has no sheep. Nor any sons.”
    Mormont made no answer.
    â€œAt Winterfell one of the serving women told us stories,” Jon went on. “She
used to say that there were wildlings who would lay with the Others to birth
half-human children.”
    â€œHearth tales. Does Craster seem less than human to you?”
    In half a hundred ways.
“He gives his sons to the wood.”
    A long silence. Then: “Yes.” And
“Yes,”
the raven muttered,
strutting.
“Yes, yes, yes.”
    â€œYou knew?”
    â€œSmallwood told me. Long ago. All the rangers know, though few will talk of
it.”
    â€œDid my uncle know?”
    â€œAll the rangers,” Mormont repeated. “You think I ought to stop him. Kill
him if need be.” The Old Bear sighed. “Were it

only that he wished to rid himself of some mouths, I’d gladly send Yoren or
Conwys to collect the boys. We could raise them to the black and the Watch
would be that much the stronger. But the wildlings serve crueler gods than you
or I. These boys are Craster’s offerings. His prayers, if you will.”
    His wives must offer different prayers,
Jon thought.
    â€œHow is it you came to know this?” the Old Bear asked him. “From one of
Craster’s wives?”
    â€œYes, my lord,” Jon confessed. “I would sooner not tell you which. She was
frightened and wanted help.”
    â€œThe wide world is full of people wanting help, Jon. Would that some could
find the courage to help themselves. Craster sprawls in his loft even now,
stinking of wine and lost to sense. On his board below lies a sharp new axe.
Were it me, I’d name it “Answered Prayer’ and make an end.”
    Yes.
Jon thought of Gilly. She and her sisters. They were nineteen,
and Craster was one, but . . .
    â€œYet it would be an ill day for us if Craster died. Your uncle could tell you
of the times Craster’s Keep made the difference between life and death for our
rangers.”
    â€œMy father . . .” He hesitated.
    â€œGo on, Jon. Say what you would say.”
    â€œMy father once told me that some men are not worth having,” Jon finished.
“A bannerman who is brutal or unjust dishonors his liege lord as well as
himself.”
    â€œCraster is his own man. He has sworn us no vows. Nor is

he subject to our laws. Your heart is noble, Jon, but learn a lesson here. We
cannot set the world to rights. That is not our purpose. The Night’s Watch has
other wars to fight.”
    Other wars. Yes. I must remember.
“Jarman Buckwell said I might have
need of my sword soon.”
    â€œDid he?” Mormont did not seem pleased. “Craster said much and more last
night, and confirmed enough of my fears to condemn me to a sleepless night on
his floor. Mance Rayder is gathering his people together in the Frostfangs.
That’s why the villages are empty. It is the same tale that Ser Denys Mallister
had from the wildling his men captured in the Gorge, but Craster has added the
where,
and that makes all the difference.”
    â€œIs he making a city, or an army?”
    â€œNow, that is the question. How many wildlings are there? How many men of
fighting age? No one knows with certainty. The Frostfangs are cruel,
inhospitable, a wilderness of stone and ice. They will not long sustain any
great number of people. I can see only one purpose in this gathering. Mance
Rayder means to strike south, into the Seven Kingdoms.”
    â€œWildlings have invaded the realm before.” Jon had heard the tales from Old
Nan and Maester Luwin both, back at Winterfell. “Raymun Redbeard led them
south in the time of my grandfather’s grandfather, and before him there was a
king named Bael the Bard.”
    â€œAye, and long before them came the Horned Lord and the brother kings Gendel