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Chapter 300
🕑 Added 2025-01-28 23:20:38 +0000 UTCAt this very moment, back at Castle Black, a mere dozen miles away, three of the Night’s Watch’s highest-ranking officers sat fuming in silence, awaiting Robb Stark’s response to Jaime Lannister’s actions that morning. Meanwhile, Cotter Pyke had packed his belongings and was ready to leave for Eastwatch at first light.
None of them could have guessed that before the morning’s confrontation had even reached the Warden of the North’s ears, Aegor, the man they’d sought to report, was already orchestrating a plan—one so bold, so audacious, that even if it were spoken of, none would believe it.
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Aegor stepped out of his office alongside Kent.
On the surface, what he was planning resembled nothing short of a mutiny. If he suddenly surrounded Castle Black without warning, forbidding anyone from leaving, it would undoubtedly provoke outrage among the Watch’s brothers, who would see it as an attempt to seize power by force. However, the skirmish earlier in the day between Cotter Pyke and Jaime Lannister had conveniently set the stage for Aegor’s actions.
Instead of viewing his upcoming operation as an affront to the Night’s Watch itself, the brothers would likely interpret it as a show of strength or retribution aimed at Eastwatch’s commander. While this didn’t change the nature of the plan, it would significantly reduce emotional resistance.
Of course, even minimal backlash could cost Aegor valuable votes in the ongoing election for Lord Commander. But the choice was clear: votes could be regained. The steady influx of new recruits—second, third, or even countless future waves—could eventually secure him a two-thirds majority. However, if the grain shipment from the Iron Bank were to be disrupted, no number of votes would fill the bellies of the tens of thousands now dependent on him.
Hungry men were the most dangerous creatures in the world.
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Outside, the sky had gone fully dark. Snow fell in fine, powdery flakes, accumulating thinly on the frozen ground that had been swept just that afternoon. In the untended wilderness beyond the walls, the drifts were undoubtedly deeper, the landscape blanketed in an unforgiving winter scene.
The mere thought of marching through the frigid night, trudging through snowdrifts, was enough to make one’s scalp tingle. But on the bright side, the frozen northern soil meant the snow would not turn to mud, and the white expanse provided enough reflected light to see the way forward even on moonless nights.
After a few inquiries, Aegor and Kent found Flint, the clan leader, busily attending to preparations for the evening feast. Securing an escort team from Flint was straightforward; however, with Long Night Castle teeming with Northern lords and soldiers, it was impossible to discreetly muster a force of even a hundred men without drawing notice.
With the feast in full swing, the castle was as lively as it had ever been, with torches burning bright across its walls, courtyards, and towers. Yet as the Northern guests were ushered into the great hall for the banquet, the central courtyard fell into a hushed, cold emptiness.
In this dim and frigid atmosphere, Kent and his small team emerged from the kitchen, stomachs full, and slipped out through the east gate. The guards eased the doors open just enough for them to pass through, and then they were gone, swallowed by the snowy darkness.
Inside Long Night Castle, the hall rang with laughter and toasts. Outside, the biting wind drove snowflakes into the faces of the departing team as they began their arduous journey toward Castle Black and Crown's Rest, trudging through the snow-covered trail.
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There’s a joke in the modern world: Why did people in the past have so many children? Because when the sun set, there was nothing to do but sleep—and if you couldn’t sleep, well, you made children.
Crude as it may be, the joke captures the stark monotony of life before the advent of electricity. In the Gift, especially in Crown's Rest, the situation was even bleaker: no light, no entertainment, and most of the young men—Night’s Watch recruits and settlers—didn’t even have wives.
Where there was demand, supply naturally followed. Crown's Rest had become not only the de facto capital of the Gift but also the busiest hub for “flesh trade” north of White Harbor. Makeshift brothels and underground dens operated out of wooden shacks and basements along the backstreets. Most of the women providing services were widows or destitute women from Beyond the Wall, while the primary clientele consisted of Night’s Watch employees, soldiers, and well-off mountain clansmen.
Jon Snow had once approached Aegor about this, deeming it a disgrace to the Gift and the Night’s Watch’s reputation. He suggested banning such activities altogether. While Jon’s concerns were valid, Aegor had refused. His reasoning was simple: priorities.
The fledgling society of the Gift was still taking shape, and resources were limited. Aegor’s leadership could only provide jobs for about a quarter of the Gift’s population, leaving the rest dependent on the workers’ output. Without opportunities to earn a living, many widows and destitute women would have no other means to survive.
Prohibition was a luxury Aegor couldn’t afford. Instead, he imposed regulations: no open solicitation, no operations inside Crown's Rest’s main walls, and no organized brothels or pimps that could exploit the system.
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Back in Crown's Rest, the night had descended into its usual silence, with only the guards atop the walls keeping watch. The biting cold left their minds numb, their only thought being how freezing it was. Wrapped tightly in his cloak, Hatch, the watch captain, huddled in a corner to shield himself from the wind.
Then, through the darkness, Hatch spotted a line of lights approaching from the north along the King’s Road. As the figures drew closer, their identity became clear: a group of weary travelers, carrying torches and visibly fatigued, trudging through the snow to the town’s northern gate.
“Open the gate!” one of them called out.
Hatch shouted back, “Who’s there? It’s the middle of the night! Come back in the morning!”
“It’s Kent! I bring urgent orders from the Chief Logistics Officer!”
Hatch hesitated. “Orders? Everyone’s asleep. Come back at dawn.”
“Do you even understand the Common Tongue? These are emergency orders, and they can’t wait!”
Reluctantly, Hatch lowered a basket to haul up Kent alone. The young man climbed the wall and was quickly escorted to Crown's Rest’s command quarters, where Aegor’s plans would set the night ablaze.
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As the feast at Long Night Castle reached its climax, Crown's Rest stirred to life under the cover of darkness. Guards and officers scrambled to follow Aegor’s orders, assembling forces and preparing for the unprecedented operation ahead.
