Benjen was still half-a-head taller than both him and Karlon, having been the tallest of the three brothers despite being the youngest.
The way he carried himself had changed as well, now looking far more dangerous and confident that made Ned proud.
The stubble on his jaw was neatly kept and the black cloak was held at the shoulder by a pin that marked him as the First Ranger.
“Ned.
Karl.” Benjen’s arms went around both of them in a brief, firm embrace.
“It’s been too long.” “Did you come alone?” Ned asked.
“Three black brothers are in Wintertown,” Benjen stepped back, his eyes roaming the yard.
Ned had no doubt that he took in the doubled watch, along with the numerous sentries on the walls.
“I received your summons, Ned.
Did something happen?
Winterfell looks like it’s preparing for war.” “Not war, but something close to it.” He glanced toward the keep.
“We’ll speak in my solar, but the King rides north.
We’re to host the royal family before the moon is out.
I’ve already received word that they are making their way to White Harbour.” “Ah,” Benjen nodded with understanding.
Stepping back to allow his children to greet their uncle, Ned turned towards the Great Keep.
As usual, his muscles felt pleasantly tired after a good training session.
Since he started sparring more regularly again, he felt more energetic, and his mind was clearer.
He saw Benjen and Jon share a few words that made the boy’s face light up.
Ned shook his head.
Whatever it was can come later.
For now, he basked in the sense of finally reuniting with his brothers.
It had been a while since the three of them had been together, and everyone knew it.
He felt an odd sense of pride as Karlon and Benjen fell into place on either side of him, Karlon to his right and Benjen to his left as they made for the Great Keep.
Heward, one of the sentries stationed by the grand oaken doors, attempted to walk forward to ask for Benjen’s weapons as is usually proper, but Ned just waved him away as the guardsmen bowed before stepping aside.
They were waylaid on the way by Bran, accompanied as always by his silver direwolf.
“What is it Bran?” “I wanted to ask about Frostkeep, Father.” Bran said, “Robb said you and Uncle Karlon have talked about it…?” Ned stifled a sigh as he glanced at his brother, Karlon giving him a noncommittal shrug before saying, “It’s your choice, Ned.
The both of us were fostered at that age.
Younger, even.” Ned turned back to his second son, whose Tully blue eyes shone at Karlon words.
“Are you sure about this, Bran?
It wasn’t so long ago that you wanted to be a Kingsguard.” “I’m sure,” Bran said, “If I learn to sail, I can help Robb with the fleet when I’m older.
I can even captain my own ship if I have to, and help Alaric too!” A small yip came out of the still unnamed direwolf, as though weighing in.
Benjen chuckled as Ned just ruffled Bran’s hair.
“Very well then.
You will start now.
Karlon?” “Go find Torrhen and tell him that you will be joining him as my page.” Karlon said, earning Bran’s attention.
“He’ll get you started on some of your duties.” “Yes, Uncle!” Bran said, turning and rushing down the hallway.
“Come on, Summer!” The silver-grey wolf loped after him into the passage, and they were gone.
Ned stood looking at the empty corridor for a moment.
Summer, he thought.
So it is already named after all.
Not that Ned understood why since it looked anything but, with the dark markings and the grey of deep winter in its coat, but then Bran had never done things the obvious way.
A few minutes later, they were finally in front of the oaken door of the solar, guarded by one of his men.
“Stand watch at the stairway and let none pass, Donnis.” He ordered, and the man dutifully moved towards the end of the hallway.
Ned opened the door and entered the room, his brothers taking the seat in front of his desk.
“Gods, Ned, was that really a direwolf?” Benjen shook his head.
“Aye.” “I thought the direwolves were gone south of the Wall for nearly two hundred years.” “Now there are six,” Ned said with a sigh, remembering the days of the execution and the subsequent circumstances of finding the pups.
Even now, chills still ran down his spine at the dead mother, killed by a stag’s antler lodged in its throat.
Karlon had said it was a sign of the gods.
He couldn’t find himself to disagree.
He grabbed a jug of dark ale, filled three tankards on the desk, handed them both to Benjen and Karlon.
“I am in dire need of advice, little brother.” “Ask away, Ned.” Benjen urged after taking a sip.
“I am yours to command, as always.” He glanced at Karlon for a second, who gave him a nod as Ned reached into the desk drawer and pulled out a letter.
“This came from Lord Commander Mormont.” Ned said, passing it to Benjen who began to read.
“Jorah said he received similar warnings from his father before he left Bear Island regarding some trouble beyond the wall.
And the deserter I executed before Karlon’s arrival—” He paused.
“He spoke of Others.
Grumpkins and snarks, the men would say.
But he was not a man who struck me as mad, only terrified.
You are the First Ranger.
Do you think there’s any truth to these warnings?” Benjen remained deep in thought as Ned took the chance to take a generous gulp from his cup.
“I have no idea, Ned, truly.” Benjen grimaced, “We’ve been losing more men on ranging lately, more than weather and wildlings should account for.
Entire villages beyond the Wall are gone; not raided or burned, simply empty.
No bodies.
No signs of battle.
Just gone.” He turned the letter in his hands.
“Now it could just be Mance.
He’s been pulling the wildlings toward him for years now, which is another problem that needs to be dealt with.” “I’ve heard of him.” Karlon interjected.
“Just how large is the army that this King-Beyond-the-Wall has mustered?” “A little under thirty thousand, but that number is swiftly climbing.” Benjen replied, “According to Maester Aemon, there should be over two hundred thousand wildlings that live beyond the wall, at least from predicted counts.
Should even a third of them take arms, that’s a force the Night’s Watch cannot handle.
Not as it stands now.” “But surely he cannot muster them all?” Karlon asked, “What does he have that made the wildlings follow a deserter ranger to war?” “Not all of the wildlings buy his whole kingship.
Most are just desperate enough to join his warband for a push through the wall.” Benjen slowly explained, “They’re scared of something, Karlon, the wildlings.
The few we’ve caught speak of the ‘Cold Shadows’.
We’ve always thought them to be mad from the cold or hunger.” The Lord of Winterfell sighed.
“It matches with the tale that came from the deserter.
His only request before I removed his head was for us to burn his body.” “Seven hells,” Benjen cursed under his breath.
“How are we to even face the Others if the Night’s Watch can’t even handle Mance Rayder?!
Scarcely a thousand men between three castles, and half of them builders and stewards who can’t even wield a sword properly!” “The entire North will never leave the Night’s Watch alone to fight wildlings.” Karlon said, “I can sail three thousand men up the Bay of Ice in less than two days to reinforce the Shadow Tower.
The eastern lords can cover Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.
But the problem is Castle Black.” ‘Thirty thousand wildlings…’ Ned continued to ponder as Karlon and Benjen talked strategy.
Indeed, such numbers cemented that Mance Rayder was not a threat to be ignored.
While this supposed threat of Others seemed concerning, Ned refused to believe it until undeniable proof was before his eyes.
“Calling the northern banners is moot until the attack actually begins since we can’t have our armies simply wait in the Wall indefinitely.” Benjen shook his head.
“Even then, Mance could just retreat past the Haunted Forest and camp out and wait while we starve ourselves.
The Gift is barely cultivated and we can barely feed our own men now, let alone tens of thousands more throats should we go on the offensive.” “Then we need to strengthen our first line.” Ned said finally, “The Night’s Watch has been declining for a century.
Robert can change that.” He looked at his brothers.
“When he arrives, I intend to bring this before him.
Royal patronage, pardons, a proper recruiting effort.
If the Watch is to hold, it needs good men.” “Then you might need to speak with the Lord Commander and try procuring some proof, Ben.” Karlon said at last.
“If Ned is to bring this to the King, then he’ll want proof.
If the Others are real, if they’ve returned, then we need to be prepared.” Ned nodded in agreement.
If anything, an attempt to find proof of grumpkins and snarks might yield more results in determining Mance’s true numbers.
Karlon had always been the most superstitious of them, both him and Lyanna.
Benjen sighed and looked at the letter from Jeor Mormont, still lying on the desk.
“I’ll speak with the Old Bear.
We’ll find a way.” He picked up his tankard.
“I give no promises.
Men who’ve gone far enough to see what the rangers have been seeing haven’t been coming back.
But I’ll try.” Ned looked at his youngest brother, the lines on his face that had not been there ten years ago, and he realized then how all of them had their own set of responsibilities to care for.
Jeor was old, and there was no doubt in Ned’s mind who would become the successor for the Lord Commander once he passed.
When that happens, Benjen would be right in the center of the troubles to come.
“Be careful, Benjen.” he said.
Benjen raised his tankard.
“Always,” he said, which was a lie and a comfort in equal measure, and all three knew it, and drank.
Check it out if you’re interested, at least chapter 14 (long form, which is around chp 27 in webnovel) should be available by the time this chapter was uploaded.
Another chapter will be out in a few hours.