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The birth feast continued.
Domeric Bolton sang, laughter filled the hall, and cups crossed in celebration.
Benjen Stark came to stand before Ned.
He was long-limbed and lean, with a long face, black hair, and gray eyes.
He now served in the Night’s Watch as First Ranger.
“Ned, it is summer, and Winter Town is packed with tens of thousands of people. What in the world is going on? When Lord Commander Mormont and I rode south, we kept meeting people on the kingsroad, all of them heading for Winter Town. Rumors are flying everywhere. Some say Lord Stark is gathering the smallfolk to fight the ironborn. Some say he means to sweep the wildlings beyond the Wall. Some say the long summer is about to end.”
Ned smiled.
“I only want the North to grow wealthy and strong, so when winter comes, my people can live better lives. That is all. How are matters at the Wall?”
Benjen sighed.
“The same as ever. Thieves, poachers, lechers, and scum are being sent to the Wall, while fewer decent men volunteer for the Night’s Watch. Mance, the King-beyond-the-Wall, only grows stronger. One of these days, he may truly try to storm the Wall.”
The Old Bear came closer.
“Lord Eddard, the Wall needs men. I spoke with Jory Cassel, your captain of guards. He says Winter Town has grown crowded and public order has suffered. His men have caught thieves and lechers, fewer than twenty in all, and locked them in cages. Hand the scum over to me.”
With so many people flooding into Winter Town at once, trouble had been inevitable.
Pickpockets, robbers, and worse had slipped into the crowds.
Over the past few days, Jory Cassel had expanded the guard to two hundred men.
Armed with daggers, short clubs, and longswords, they patrolled Winter Town and the lands around Winterfell, arrested a number of criminals, and slowly steadied the situation.
The Night’s Watch had always been Winterfell’s friend.
It held the Wall and kept wildling armies beyond it.
Yet with its numbers falling, even the Watch struggled against an endless stream of raiders.
Wildlings often climbed the Wall or crossed the Bay of Seals by boat, slipping into the lands of House Umber, House Wull, and House Karstark to burn, kill, and plunder.
“Take them,” Ned said.
He could not refuse the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.
“Only, these men are filth. Will they not look for a chance to run? There are more deserters from the Watch every year.”
The Old Bear said, “I will keep them in hand. Lord Eddard, there is no helping it. Most men sent to the Wall these days are outlaws, but even men like that are still men I badly need. I once dreamed of opening manors in the New Gift and bringing that land back to life. It seems there is little chance of that now.”
The Wull, Big Bucket himself, came over with a rough laugh.
“Mormont, wildlings cross the New Gift all the time to raid our mountain clans. The shield that guards the realms of men, eh? Whenever a great pack of wildling raiders comes through, is it not House Umber and our mountain clans that wipe out the bastards?”
The New Gift had been given to the Night’s Watch when the Old King Jaehaerys I and Good Queen Alysanne persuaded Winterfell to donate the land south of the Wall.
In those days, the taxes from its manors had helped support the Watch.
Now, with wildling raids so frequent, the tenants had fled south.
The land had nearly become a wilderness, empty and wasted. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Ned said, “Lord Commander, perhaps Winterfell could help administer the New Gift. If I send people to farm it, the Night’s Watch may benefit.”
The Old Bear frowned.
“Lord Eddard, the New Gift was given to the Night’s Watch by Winterfell, with the Targaryen king and queen of the time as witnesses, and all the gods above as well.”
Ned smiled.
“Do not be nervous. I am not trying to take the New Gift back. The North has more empty land than I can plow. I mean joint development. I intend to send soldiers there and establish military settlements centered on Queenscrown. In ordinary times, the people there will farm. In the slack season, they will train. When wildling raiders appear, they will light beacon towers and hunt them down alongside the Watch. Part of the settlements’ yield will go to the Night’s Watch.”
The suspicion in the Old Bear’s eyes faded.
“That would suit me well.”
Once the Old Bear left, the mountain clan chiefs closed in: the Norrey, the Flint, the Liddle, the Wull, and others.
The Liddle wore furs over his short, sturdy frame.
“Lord Eddard, what exactly is happening in Winter Town? Men from Barrowton, Karhold, and White Harbor have rich lords. Even without Winter Town, they have some hope of surviving winter. The mountain clans are different.”
“When winter comes and snow closes the passes, life in the mountains becomes torment. Without Winter Town, all we can do is shut our eyes and wait to die. Many old folk in my clan feared there would be no room left when winter came, so they left home early and came here. But I have seen how crowded Winter Town is. When winter truly arrives, will you refuse the mountain clans?”
Ned took the Liddle’s hand.
“Remember this, Lord Liddle. Winterfell’s halls will always be open to the mountain clans.”
The clan chiefs cheered in their rough voices.
The Wull said, “Lord Eddard, more than a hundred people from my clan have settled in Winter Town this time. Now that they have somewhere to go, I can breathe easier. But with fewer people at home, we are weaker against ironborn pirates and wildling raiders.”
The Wulls lived in the mountains by the Bay of Ice.
When they fished, they had to guard against ironborn pirates.
When they herded, they had to guard against wildlings.
Their hatred for both ran deep.
Ned said, “I have just discussed the New Gift with Lord Commander Mormont. We will establish military settlements there to resist the wildlings. As for the ironborn threat on the western coast, I have a plan for that as well.”
After the feast ended, the servants cleared away the dishes and brought in tables and chairs.
Ned summoned his bannermen for a council.
Before the meeting began, he noticed Theon, Robb, and Jon talking with Domeric Bolton in a corner of the hall.
“Theon, Jory has been complaining that Winter Town needs more men on patrol. Go help him.” Since the council would inevitably turn to the ironborn, Ned did not want Theon present to hear words that would wound his pride.
Theon bowed and left, his displeasure plain on his face.
Ned sat upon the direwolf throne and looked over his bannermen.
“I intend to establish a series of arrow towers along the western coast, with garrisons stationed at Bear Island, Deepwood Motte, the Rills, Flint’s Finger, Sea Dragon Point, Barrowton, and other vulnerable places.”
The news set the lords buzzing at once.
Lord Ryswell of the Rills stroked his white beard.
Master Galbart Glover of Deepwood Motte and his brother Robett exchanged a look.
Lady Maege Mormont of Bear Island cursed aloud.
Lady Barbrey turned to murmur something to Roose Bolton.
Ned said, “The ironborn are a seafaring people. On the western coast, we have little more than fishing boats, and for now we cannot challenge their longships. But if we garrison arrow towers, ironborn pirates will pay a price when they come ashore.”
Maege Mormont said in her rough voice, “Lord Eddard, towers and soldiers both cost money. Who pays? Bear Island is poor enough as it is.”
Ned said, “The lord whose land holds the tower pays half. The remaining cost will be divided among the other lords.”
Then Ned realized Theon had come back after all.
He stood beside Robb, Domeric Bolton, and Jon Snow.
Roose Bolton said softly, “This is useless, Lord Eddard. Better to send soldiers straight to the Iron Islands and demand satisfaction from Balon Greyjoy. Is he not the head of the raiders? Burn out the nest of thieves, and all will be peaceful.”
Ned frowned.
“Roose, I am Warden of the North. I keep the king’s peace in Robert’s name. If we march on the Iron Islands, we become the ones who break that peace.”
Besides, Ned knew how hard the ironborn were to fight at sea.
During Balon Greyjoy’s rebellion, Robert had gathered the armies of the riverlands, the westerlands, the stormlands, and the North, along with the royal fleet, before he shattered the Iron Fleet and forced Balon to yield up his son as a hostage and bend the knee.
If the North’s own ramshackle fleet sailed against the Iron Islands, it might not even make a successful landing against the longships, let alone conquer anything.
A wolfish smile bloomed on Lady Barbrey’s face.
“Lord Eddard, why are ironborn pirates so bold? Because you are too softhearted. Your foster son, Theon Greyjoy, is Balon’s only living son. When the ironborn raid the North, you should have slaughtered Theon long ago. Balon knows you will not harm your hostage. That is why he has nothing to fear.”
The Wull agreed.
“A hostage you cannot hurt is no hostage at all.”
Ser Helman Tallhart clenched his hand into a fist.
“It should be done.”
Lord Rickard Karstark shrugged.
“It should have been done years ago.”
Ned had not expected the council to turn this way.
Theon was red with anger and ready to explode, but Robb and Domeric Bolton held him back.
Roose Bolton’s soft voice cut through the murmurs.
“In truth, I rather like the boy. His father must be warned, but the child need not die. I suggest cutting away a portion of Theon’s skin and sending it to Balon Greyjoy. If Balon is wise, he will restrain his men.”
Theon turned and left.
Robb hurried after him.
Ned sighed.
“My lords, I am sorry to see you discussing the murder of a young man with such sober faces. The ironborn are hard to control. Every captain is king aboard his own ship. Balon Greyjoy may rule the Iron Islands, but he cannot command every ironborn pirate scattered across those godsforsaken rocks. Killing Theon would gain us nothing. This matter ends here.”
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