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Jon’s heart burned with hatred for Alliser Thorne.
He wanted nothing more than to rush the platform and tear the man apart, but he knew full well this was the training yard.
Not a place where he could run wild.
The rules of the Night’s Watch mattered to him more than his own life.
So when Alliser Thorne’s provocation came, Jon answered it with nothing but a fierce glare.
His voice stayed calm.
Steady.
“As a Night’s Watch Recruit, I firmly believe I have the right to undergo selection and become a true brother of the Night’s Watch.”
“Very well.
Since our little bastard Lord Snow wants to prove he’s no coward — which of you recruits would like to teach him a lesson?”
Alliser Thorne swept his gaze across the assembled recruits, all of them eager and itching for action.
But many averted their eyes when his gaze landed on them.
Their previous sparring matches with Jon had taught them some painful lessons.
Not everyone in this batch was a coward.
A tall man named Hoder stepped forward.
Only sixteen, yet his build dwarfed most full-grown men, arms thick with muscle, solid as quarried stone.
His stonemason’s blood had forged a body like tempered steel, and his fierce face carried a glint of cunning.
Jon’s heart sank when he saw his opponent.
Hoder was renowned for brute strength, and the weight of his fists matched his size.
Jon’s swordsmanship was superb, but against raw power like that, he dared not let his guard down.
And more than that, Jon glanced at Leon beside him.
Today was everything for Leon.
Whether he became a true brother of the Night’s Watch all hinged on this.
Jon knew he could not fall to Hoder.
He had to give everything he had to clear the path.
His thoughts raced as he scanned the yard.
The only person here who barely qualified as a friend was old Edd Tollett.
Jon made his decision: he would defeat every opponent except Edd, then have Edd go easy on Leon in the matches.
That way, everything would fall into place.
Leon wouldn’t be forced to Mole’s Town to take up work he wanted no part of.
Leon racked his brain but could not fathom how Jon’s mind worked so meticulously.
In a situation shifting by the second, Jon had already arranged his escape route down to the last detail.
“You have 30 seconds to prepare.
Time’s up — the fight begins.”
Alliser Thorne’s voice was cold from the platform.
A sly smile flickered across his face.
Hoder’s cautious expression melted into pure ecstasy.
Edd Tollett stood frozen, as if struck by lightning.
“30 seconds?
I couldn’t even reach the armory in that time, let alone put on proper armor!” Edd cried out.
Alliser Thorne glanced at him, face blank, voice stripped of all emotion.
“20 seconds.”
Jon looked utterly incredulous.
At that number, Edd Tollett began fumbling frantically at the ties of his cloth armor.
But the more he hurried, the worse it got.
When the countdown ended, he’d managed to undo exactly 2 hemp cord knots.
Hoder stood fully armored.
Beneath his half-helm, the corner of his mouth curled upward, oppressive and inevitable, as he advanced on Jon step by step.
Jon faced the danger without flinching.
Whatever panic Edd was flailing through beside him, Jon paid it no mind.
He drew a slow breath and strode forward to meet Hoder.
“I wager Lord Snow breaks two ribs — one copper star!” someone shouted.
“Heh.
I’ll add a copper star on a broken arm,” another taunted.
“You all have that little faith in Lord Snow?
Fine.
Two more copper stars says he only coughs up one mouthful of blood.”
The Night’s Watch recruits openly set odds on the match, no pretense of discretion.
Jon and Hoder stood at the yard’s center, the air between them taut and ready to snap.
Everyone knew the history: even fully armored, one-on-one, Jon and Hoder split their wins fifty-fifty.
Now, with Jon practically defenseless, no one on that field gave him a chance.
The betting wasn’t on who would win.
It was on how badly Jon would get hurt.
Hearing his companions’ roundabout praise, excitement nearly twisted Hoder’s face out of shape.
He swung his two-handed sword and hacked at Jon without a heartbeat of hesitation.
The strike looked ferocious.
It slammed into the ground, kicked up a cloud of dust, and accomplished nothing.
Jon sidestepped the sluggish Hoder with fluid ease, drew, slashed, one motion.
The blow landed on Hoder’s thick back plate.
It made the overconfident man stumble.
It did no real damage.
The pain in his back enraged Hoder, but it also woke him up.
Jon’s swordsmanship was among the best in this batch of recruits.
Until victory was secured, Hoder would not underestimate him again.
“Stone-head!
You lose this, and you’ll be scrubbing latrines alongside our Lord Snow from now on.” Alliser Thorne’s taunt from the platform flushed Hoder’s face a deeper red.
His fighting spirit blazed hotter.
In his fury, Hoder swung his greatsword in wild arcs.
What looked like a chaotic flurry was, in truth, utterly devoid of technique.
Jon seized opening after opening, leaving sword marks across Hoder’s body with ease.
The thick armor made Hoder’s already clumsy frame even more cumbersome, but it also saved his life at every critical moment.
Without that suit of steel, Hoder’s body would have been riddled with holes by now.
➤ Next: I Want to Fight Ten!