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Chapter 230
🕑 Added 2025-01-28 22:58:49 +0000 UTC“Is putting on a show really that entertaining? Is it? Really?” Aegor’s patience was wearing thin. If he didn’t know that Melisandre truly possessed some mysterious powers, he might have been tempted to grab his weapon and chase this charlatan out. But when faced with an unpredictable sorceress, he dared not risk confrontation.
“I’m all ears, my lady,” he said, maintaining a veneer of courtesy.
“Food need not only come from friends—it can also come from enemies,” Melisandre replied as she settled back into her chair. “Why not look north of the Wall?”
“North of the Wall?!” Aegor’s eyes widened. You’re the one who warned me that killing White Walkers would draw the Great Other’s attention. And now you want me to venture beyond the Wall for food? What kind of cruel joke is this?
“I don’t understand… My lady, please elaborate.”
Melisandre merely shook her head, offering a cryptic reminder. “When the wildlings marched south to attack the Wall, did they come empty-handed?”
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Of course not. The wildlings had brought their families, livestock, and every possession they owned.
“Ah, you mean the wildlings’ supplies!” Aegor quickly caught on. “But the Wall’s defenses are already stretched thin. We don’t have the manpower to launch raids and seize their provisions.”
And it wasn’t just about manpower. The wildlings were fragmented, with each tribe and family guarding their own food and livestock. Even if Aegor had a well-trained cavalry, raiding such dispersed resources would be inefficient and likely cost more in supplies than it would yield.
“You don’t necessarily have to raid them,” Melisandre said. “You could let them… hand it over willingly.”
“Hand it over willingly?” Aegor frowned. Has she gone mad? Or does she have some kind of magic that can hypnotize the wildlings into surrendering their food?
Meeting Aegor’s skeptical gaze, Melisandre simply smiled enigmatically without elaborating.
...
Silence often speaks louder than words. Aegor’s mind raced, and he soon grasped her implication. The only way to make the wildlings voluntarily offer their food was to open the gates and let them in.
It wasn’t a novel idea. Allowing the wildlings into the Gift and enlisting them had been part of Aegor’s long-term plan. But his strategy had always included a crucial delay: he intended to prolong the Wall’s defense until the wildlings were worn down. The relentless fighting would sap their strength and diminish their pride, leaving only the most stubborn and aggressive individuals to be culled in battle. Once the wildlings were exhausted and demoralized, he could negotiate from a position of strength.
The resulting agreement would still resemble a truce, but the wildlings would be the ones seeking terms. Only by reversing the roles of supplicant and arbiter could the wildlings be truly subdued.
Melisandre’s suggestion, though appealing in its simplicity, skipped all the steps that Aegor deemed necessary. The wildlings knew the importance of stockpiling for winter, but the harsh environment beyond the Wall and their hasty migration south left them ill-prepared. Their supplies might last three to five months, but after that? What then?
Melisandre seemed to sense his doubts. “Letting the wildlings into the Wall will drastically reduce the number of enemies we face in the coming winter. It will weaken my lord’s ancient foe and free up your forces to address the North’s other troubles. Why hesitate?”
Freeing up forces? The thought tempted Aegor. If the wildlings could be pacified, their warriors could bolster his army to drive out the Ironborn invaders in the west. Such a victory would not only enhance his influence but also restore the North’s ability to supply the Wall.
But Aegor’s experience managing the Night’s Watch’s industries gave him a keen understanding of logistics. A quick mental calculation revealed the flaw in Melisandre’s suggestion: the North’s population barely exceeded one million. Adding 100,000 wildlings would stretch its resources beyond breaking point. If the winter lasted more than six months, starvation would be inevitable.
“Letting the wildlings into the Wall might buy us an extra month or two with their provisions. Resolving the Ironborn threat and restoring the North’s supply lines could buy another few months,” Aegor said. “But then what? Lady Melisandre, you speak often of the Long Night. Tell me—will this winter, this ‘Long Night,’ end within a year?”
And even if it did, restarting agriculture would take time.
“The Lord of Light has not revealed how long the winter will last,” Melisandre admitted. “But that only means it is irrelevant. Do not lose hope, Chief Logistics Officer. Despair is the enemy’s greatest weapon. No one under your care will starve. The Lord of Light will provide.”
“Can your Lord of Light grow crops in snow?” Aegor asked dryly.
“Do you think my god is a farmer?” Melisandre shot him a reproachful look, clearly unimpressed by his sarcasm. “R’hllor will provide in other ways. In the flames, I have seen great ships crossing the Narrow Sea, laden with grain. They dock at a port near the Wall, feeding countless souls who dwell there.”
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The Narrow Sea? Aegor hadn’t considered importing food from Essos. He scrutinized Melisandre’s expression, searching for any hint of deception, but her face betrayed nothing.
Is she truly seeing visions, or just feeding me a convenient lie? Aegor pondered. While he doubted her motives, there was no denying the logic of her suggestion. Essos, with its milder winters, might indeed have surplus grain for sale. But transporting it across the sea to feed tens of thousands? The costs would be astronomical. Could the Night’s Watch’s industries bear such an expense?
And if they could, would there be enough left to fund his other critical projects?
Another possibility struck him: seeking a loan from Braavos. When Jaqen H’ghar saw the wights, his reaction suggested that the Iron Bank was keenly aware of the White Walker threat. If Aegor could convince the Braavosi financiers that a breached Wall would lead to apocalyptic consequences, they might be persuaded to offer aid. After all, no Wall meant no repayment of Westeros’s debts.
“My lady, thank you for your wise counsel. I will give it careful thought and discuss it with my comrades,” Aegor said.
Melisandre smiled faintly, unimpressed by his noncommittal response. “Make haste. Time is not on our side. The Long Night approaches, and we must prepare for the worst.”
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