New chapter is live.
Settle in, take your time, and let’s see what waits in the dark 🖤 ✦ The last horse collapsed.
It was still breathing, but no matter how hard it tried, it could no longer stand.
Aeg looked south, then glanced behind him.
At last, he sank heavily to the ground.
* * * Ten days had passed since the night they ran into the Others.
For ten days and ten nights, Aeg and Gared had fled.
In all that time, they had slept less than a full day.
By then, both men were exhausted in body and mind, and Aeg wanted nothing more than to lie down and never rise again.
Fortunately, only a few leagues remained between them and their destination.
No matter how slowly they dragged themselves forward, they would sleep south of the Wall tonight.
Their escape had not gone smoothly.
They had survived the Others, but trouble found them almost at once.
The supplies for a ranging beyond the Wall had been divided among the four men.
Ser Waymar Royce, as their officer and the rider of a warhorse, had carried the lightest and most valuable rations: dried meat.
Aeg’s horse carried blankets and spare clothes, Gared’s carried the bread, and Will’s carried oats for the horses.
Choosing which two loads to abandon would have been hard enough.
Aeg and Gared had not been given even that choice.
Will’s horse had been killed by the Others.
Waymar’s had bolted.
The two surviving black brothers were left with half their food and their warm gear.
The next problem arrived quickly.
Men ate rations.
Horses needed fodder.
A horse in the wild could survive on forage, but the Watch’s mounts were carrying heavy loads and being driven hard.
Oats provided the concentrated energy they needed to keep going.
With the grain gone, and with neither man willing to feed their limited bread to an animal, Gared’s horse lasted two or three days on what grass it could find before collapsing.
Aeg’s mount held out a little longer, perhaps only because he weighed less.
After the first horse went down, they stopped briefly and made the hard choice.
They killed it for meat and gave all the remaining bread to the last horse.
Weapons, food, blankets, and several dozen pounds of gear went on the animal’s back, while the men walked as lightly as they could.
So the three lucky survivors continued for several more days: men eating horsemeat, horse eating bread.
After they fed the last loaf to the last horse, they finally drew near the Wall.
Gared sighed, pulled the gear from the horse’s back, dropped it aside, and drew his steel sword.
Aeg, who had been leaning against a tree to catch his breath, looked at him in confusion.
“What are you doing?” “Killing the horse.” “Killing the horse?” Aeg stared at him.
“It carried us all this way.
Even if it did nothing heroic, it suffered for us.
Now that we’re nearly home, you want to cut its throat?
The Wall is half a day’s walk from here.
We could crawl back hungry if we had to, and we still have horsemeat left.” The old ranger snorted.
“You plan on going back to Castle Black?” “What does that mean?” Thinking burned energy too, and Aeg had no patience left for riddles.
“Where else would we go?” “I mean to get around the Wall and go south.
Find somewhere to hide.” Gared fixed his eyes on Aeg.
“At the far western end lies the Gorge, a deep chasm between the Wall and the Bay of Ice.
The Bridge of Skulls crosses it, and Westwatch-by-the-Bridge stands nearby.
The Shadow Tower watches the whole region, but small bands of wildlings still descend into the Gorge to slip around the Wall.” Desertion?
Aeg’s heart jolted.
He had thought about running for a long time.
“So we could use the Gorge to reach the south?
Lord Commander Mormont would not leave a path like that unguarded.” “Of course not.
Men from the Shadow Tower watch the approaches, and the crossing is steep, exposed, and nearly pathless.
A column with baggage could never make it through unnoticed, but two men traveling light might.” “And after we get around the Wall?
Do you have a plan?” “No.” The old ranger shook his head.
“One step at a time.” “Then why the hell run?
You know what happens to deserters.” Aeg shook his head.
“The Others are terrifying, but there are ways to deal with them.
As long as we stay behind the Wall and rely on…” “You don’t know shit,” Gared cut in.
“Waymar Royce is dead.
He was a noble.” “We did not kill him.” “No.
But to some men, that will make no difference at all.” The old ranger’s voice turned bitter.
“Subordinates are supposed to protect their officers.
Now our officer is dead, and the two of us crawl back alive.
Anything we say will carry half the weight it should.
The Others?
Seven hells, if young Royce were alive, it might be different.
But with only the two of us returning?
They would have to be fools to believe us.” Aeg frowned.
He had spent the whole way back thinking only of running and surviving.
He had not considered this.
“What would they do to us?” “What would they do?” Gared laughed harshly.
“We may bring news of the Others back to Castle Black, but whether they call us messengers or deserters will depend entirely on what our superiors decide.
If they may condemn us as deserters anyway, why not truly desert?” Aeg fell silent for a moment.
Then he said uncertainly, “The Night’s Watch is short of men.
We are both rangers.
Lord Commander Mormont cannot simply cut off our heads on a whim, can he?” ✦ ✦ ✦ Want to keep going?
I hope this chapter gave you another reason to stay with the story.
There’s still plenty ahead, and things are only starting to unfold.