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“Leon was still a recruit yesterday, but from now on he’ll be on equal footing with me.
You might as well just make him Master-at-Arms outright.
If you do this, how am I supposed to command any respect?”
“That’s your problem.
Besides, Leon’s swordsmanship and courage have already been proven.”
The Old Bear answered without hurry.
The Master-at-Arms had run squarely into a soft refusal from the Lord Commander.
As for the trainer’s post itself, Leon’s honest attitude was one of complete indifference.
It wasn’t the Ranger position he’d wanted most, heading north to fight wildlings, but slowly building his strength by training recruits and sparring against them day after day wasn’t a bad way to spend his time either.
“Lord Tyrion Lannister will be departing for King’s Landing in a few days.
You have connections at court.
You might as well ride south with him and petition the king for reinforcements directly.”
The Old Bear’s next words drained the color from both men’s faces at once.
Alliser Thorne shot Leon a look full of resentment.
In his mind, this was the first sign that the Old Bear was losing faith in him.
Once he came back from King’s Landing dragging a batch of prisoners, what awaited him would be total exile from the inner circle of power.
Leon’s shock came from an entirely different place.
The Many-Faced God had already given him a deadline.
If Alliser Thorne simply left like that, was he supposed to sit and wait for the man to return before he could kill him?
“Unacceptable!” “Unacceptable.”
As if sharing one mind, both men protested to the Old Bear at the same time.
“Hm?
Alliser.” The Old Bear’s temper flickered.
In all his decades commanding Castle Black, this was the first time two men had contradicted his decision in the same breath.
His expression turned cold as his eyes settled on the Master-at-Arms.
“Castle Black can have only one Master-at-Arms.
And it can only be me.”
“And you?” The Old Bear turned to Leon.
“Exactly as it should be.
Besides, the Watch is shorthanded right now.
Better to assign Ser Alliser to the Rangers.
The post of Master-at-Arms — I can handle it alone.”
“You!” Alliser Thorne had never imagined that Leon, not yet even officially installed as Deputy Master-at-Arms, was already scheming openly to seize power.
“Enough.
The two of you can settle this with a duel.
Loser goes to muck out the stables.”
The Old Bear announced his final decision in a tone of complete disgust, then turned away, unwilling to waste another word on either of them.
He ordered both men to find a spot in the training yard and fight it out.
“Wooden sword or steel?”
Stepping into the training yard, Leon asked first, though his hand had already drawn the Black and White Kiss.
He had clearly already made his choice.
“Steel!
Steel!
By the Seven, if one of us is fated to die today, let him die with the Seven as witness!”
Alliser Thorne’s blood was running hot.
He paid no mind to the terrifying skill Leon had shown earlier, drew his own blade, and came forward.
“Lord Commander, the Master-at-Arms is likely no match for Leon.
Why won’t you stop this?”
Nearby, First Steward Bowen Marsh spoke up urgently, trying to halt the fight.
The Old Bear didn’t answer.
He stood in silence, watching the flock of ravens circling above Alliser Thorne’s head.
“You arrogant little whelp — die!”
Alliser Thorne was no craven who sheathed his sword at the sight of an enemy.
When the rebels broke through King’s Landing during Robert’s Rebellion, he had not surrendered.
He knew he was no match for Leon.
He drew his sword anyway and came forward.
That stirred something in Leon.
A trace of genuine respect.
It didn’t last long.
That respect became an attack without restraint.
Leon said nothing.
He raised the Black and White Kiss high and brought it cleaving down on Alliser Thorne.
CLANG!
Two figures crossed.
A flash of cold light blazed so bright it seemed almost solid.
Then it was over.
Leon’s blade was spotless.
Only the tip dripped blood.
Alliser Thorne stiffened.
His face was a mask of pure disbelief.
Then the line opened.
From his right shoulder down to his waist, crimson split Alliser Thorne apart.
His body separated into two halves.
Even the fine sword in his hand, forged in King’s Landing, was severed cleanly in two.
No one could understand why Leon had struck to kill.
In every bout before this, he had only ever wounded.
But it was done.
By the time anyone fully understood what had happened, it was far too late.
The Black and White Kiss carried a sharpness the world rarely saw.
Even cut in two, Alliser Thorne had not yet fully died.
His upper half dropped to the ground while his lower half remained standing.
His mouth hung open.
His eyes were hollow.
He tried to speak and could not.
He could only stare blankly up at the sky.
Black ravens wheeled above him in slow circles, and kept circling, until he breathed his last.
Then they scattered.
That night.
The Old Bear presided over Alliser Thorne’s funeral.
Every senior officer of the Night’s Watch attended, all except the First Steward, who had gone with Leon to the godswood.
Faced with the death of their Master-at-Arms, the mood among the brothers was complicated.
In the end, grief won out.
“He…
was not a good man.
As an individual, he was selfish, arrogant, and base.
And yet he was also loyal, honorable, and a man of principle — a true brother of the Night’s Watch.
He was once a knight of the Crownlands.
House Thorne held direct vassalage to the Iron Throne.
He joined the Night’s Watch and, as always, he did his duty without complaint.
During his years on the Wall, he served under several Lord Commanders.
He was not the most charming Master-at-Arms I ever had under my command, but he was the best.
It was he who turned thieves and fugitives into proper men of the Night’s Watch.
He was Alliser Thorne.
His watch is ended.
Here it ends.”
The Old Bear’s eulogy was plain and heavy.
Every brother standing around the grave paid Alliser Thorne his due respect.
At the end, Maester Aemon shuffled forward, trembling, and cast a torch onto the pyre beneath Alliser Thorne’s body.
The flames rose high beyond the Wall.
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