That afternoon, the knights sent to search for Jon finally returned.
Before they left, Eddard had not told them what they were looking for.
He had only ordered them to patrol the surrounding area.
Yet when they came back, they brought only a warhorse.
The horse had clearly been badly frightened.
Its mane was caked with slush, and part of its reins had snapped.
It took several knights a great deal of effort just to lead it back to Winterfell.
At the sight, Eddard’s brow slowly furrowed.
More troubling still, the knights had found a trail of enormous footprints near the warhorse, along with a stretch of trees crushed flat.
They searched the area for a long while, but found no trace of any beast.
It was as though it had vanished into thin air.
“Some sort of giant beast must have left them, but we’ve never seen claw marks like these before.”
The leading knight’s face was a little pale, and his voice was low.
Eddard slowly crouched and reached out to touch the claw prints in the snow.
The moment he saw those massive tracks, he knew what creature had made them.
A dragon.
Eddard rose and glanced back in the direction of Winterfell.
This place was half a day’s ride from Winterfell, and there were no villages nearby.
If Frostflame appeared at night, it would be difficult for anyone to see her.
Fortunately, Jon had thought of that.
Eddard stood, brushed the snow from his hands, and his face returned to calm.
He beckoned several of the knights with him over.
“No one is to speak of what they saw today.”
The knights looked at one another.
Eddard swept his gaze over them, his voice growing stern.
“I will deal with that beast.
Without my order, no one is to come near this place.”
“Yes, Lord.”
The knights lowered their heads and asked no more.
They had followed Eddard for many years and knew well when to speak and when to keep silent.
Since their lord did not wish to explain, they would not press him.
After Eddard returned to the hall of Winterfell, he gathered Robb and the rest of the family and announced the news.
“Jon has already returned to Castle Black.”
Robb paused in surprise.
“So soon?
Didn’t he say he would leave tomorrow?”
“He said there were urgent matters he needed to deal with, so he went ahead first,” Eddard explained.
Robb frowned.
“Then why didn’t he tell us?”
“He did not want to disturb everyone’s rest.” Eddard glanced at his eldest son.
Robb opened his mouth, but in the end, it only became a sigh.
“He’s been like this for years, coming and going in such haste.”
Arya, seated beside him, immediately looked up and cried, “Hmph.
When he comes back, I’m going to ask him why he never takes me with him when he goes out!”
Robb gave a soft laugh.
“If he brought you along, you’d run off to find the wildlings on your very first day at the Wall.”
“I would not!” Arya shot back indignantly.
“Haha…”
Laughter filled the hall at once.
…
Frostflame spread her great wings, her massive body surging into the clouds.
The wind struck Jon head-on, so fierce he could scarcely open his eyes.
He quickly lowered himself, gripping the spines along the dragon’s back with both hands and pressing tight against Frostflame’s neck.
All that day, they had landed in the wilderness only once to rest.
A journey that would have taken more than ten days, even a month, on horseback was left far behind in a single day beneath Frostflame’s wings.
To avoid being seen, Jon kept Frostflame high in the sky, doing his best to steer clear of castles and settlements along the way.
They traveled by day and landed in deserted places to rest by night.
As they drew farther and farther from The North, the biting cold gradually eased, but the weather did not improve.
In the distance, the clouds pressed lower and lower, and the sky darkened little by little.
Night fell.
At Jon’s signal, Frostflame landed in a remote stretch of mountains.
Withered yellow trees thrashed in the wind, and from time to time loose stones rolled down the cliff face.
Jon stroked Frostflame’s lower jaw for a while, then let her go off to hunt.
She had eaten little all day and had flown for so long that she was already hungry.
Once she was gone, Jon went to a hollow beneath the cliff face.
After lighting a campfire, he lowered his head and began sorting through his pack.
After he had rested for a while, a soft sound suddenly came from the other side of the rock wall.
Jon froze at once.
Almost at the same moment, his hand closed around the hilt of Longclaw.
Three burly, vicious-looking figures stepped out of a nearby cave.
They cursed as they came, clearly roused by the noise outside.
They wore ragged cowhide armor, and their faces bore the marks of wind, frost, and hunger.
“Just one man?”
The thickset man in the lead licked his cracked lips and fixed his eyes on the Valyrian steel sword at Jon’s waist, greed flaring in his gaze.
“Good fortune.
Leave the pack and the sword.”
Jon wasted no words.
He drew his Valyrian steel sword, Longclaw, its intricate rippling patterns catching the firelight.
The three bandits exchanged a glance, then lunged at him with savage grins.
The tall man with the axe charged first, raising the heavy weapon in both hands and bringing it down toward Jon’s head.
Jon stepped forward, cutting straight inside the arc of the axe haft.
Longclaw thrust out.
The blade pierced the worn leather armor in an instant and sank beneath the man’s ribs.
The tall man gave a muffled groan.
His body went rigid, then toppled to the ground.
The second bandit had already rushed close, his short blade aimed straight for Jon’s throat.
Jon blocked with the body of his sword.
Clang!
The short blade was knocked aside.
Longclaw turned with the motion and swept across the man’s wrist.
Blood sprayed out.
The bandit screamed, clutching his severed wrist as he stumbled back.
Jon caught up in one stride and cut across with Longclaw.
The blade swept over the man’s chest, splitting leather armor and flesh alike.
“What kind of monster are you…”
Seeing his two companions fall one after the other, the third bandit’s savage grin vanished completely.
With a strange cry, he turned and ran.
Jon did not chase him, because he could already feel Frostflame’s return.
Boom!
An immense white shape descended from the sky with a violent rush of air.
The gale pressed down from above, bending the trees on the slope to either side as loose stones rolled across the ground.
Frostflame dove down, her enormous dragon claws crashing into the earth.
The rocks beneath her feet split apart on the spot.
The surge of air hurled the bandit off the ground and sent him crashing several steps away.
Violet slit pupils looked down at him as she gave a low dragon roar.
The bandit shook all over in terror, the color draining from his face in an instant.
The hand that had gripped his weapon moments before could no longer even hold the knife steady.
Frostflame lowered her head.
A massive dragon claw slowly came down.
The scream cut off at once.
Silence returned to the valley, leaving only the howling wind and the thick smell of blood.
Jon searched the dead bandits, and after finding nothing of value, he walked toward the cave they had come from.
He had not even reached it when a foul stench struck him, forcing him several steps back.
He shook his head and gave up on going inside.
Taking his belongings, he walked to a place farther off and downwind, then made camp again.
After eating the prey Frostflame had brought back, he lay down against her and fell asleep.
The next day, before the sky had fully brightened, Jon woke, ate the food left from yesterday, and climbed back onto the dragon’s back.
“Let’s go, Frostflame.”
The dragon spread her wings and rose from the ground once more, leaving the blood-soaked valley beneath them.
Jon lay on the dragon’s back, gazing at the black sea to the east.