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Chapter 211
🕑 Added 2025-01-28 22:52:49 +0000 UTCAegor stayed in Winterfell for only one night before setting off again. After traveling non-stop for several days, he finally arrived at the abandoned Gift village he had chosen as his base.
Crown’s Rest sat beside a tiny, unmarked lake that wasn’t even shown on most maps. Thanks to this pristine body of water, the village had once been one of the largest settlements in the Gift. Dense oak and apple groves surrounded the lake, concealing the ruins of homes once inhabited by its former residents. At the center of the lake lay a small island, barely a few acres in size, with a tower keep rising from its core. Its shadow reflected on the tranquil blue water, rippling with the northern wind.
Legend had it that Queen Alysanne Targaryen had once spent a night in the tower. The villagers, in her honor, painted the crenellations on the roof gold, as though crowning the structure. Thus, the settlement earned the name "Crown’s Rest."
The village, part of the New Gift, was near the Kingsroad, with fertile land and abundant resources. Its surroundings were suitable for farming and fishing, making it a desirable place to live. However, as the Night’s Watch declined and wildling raids grew more frequent, the villagers were forced to abandon it, leaving the area in ruins.
Now, however, the place was alive with activity. Using local materials, the collapsed houses had been rebuilt, missing roofs replaced, and workers bustled to and fro. Even from a distance, the transformation was evident.
The arrival of Aegor’s hundred-strong retinue quickly drew the attention of the settlers. Before long, Yarm, the leader of the advance team sent to reclaim the village, approached him.
“My lord, you’ve arrived!” Yarm greeted him with enthusiasm.
Aegor nodded. “Yes, it’s about time. From the looks of things, you’ve done well here.”
The compliment was genuine. Compared to their last meeting, Yarm—an ambitious young man from the Westerlands—had become noticeably more tanned and weathered. After organizing an obsidian mining operation on Dragonstone, he had been handpicked months ago to lead this effort in the North. His dedication had proven invaluable.
“Thank you, my lord,” Yarm said, his joy evident despite his attempt at humility. “But you must be weary from the journey. Please, come into the village and rest.”
Yarm—who could now rightfully be called the “village mayor”—led Aegor and his men into Crown’s Rest. After settling most of the group, he began a tour of the revitalized settlement. The changes went far beyond what was visible from afar. The stone causeway leading to the island, once submerged, had been reinforced and turned into a sturdy wooden bridge. Parts of the village had been restored, with a low wooden palisade now encircling the area.
“That building, set apart from the others with the thick walls, is where the pyromancers mix wildfire,” Yarm explained, gesturing toward the structure. “The roof is designed to collapse in case of an accident, burying the flames.”
As they walked along the lakeshore, Yarm pointed out other features. “Over there is the warehouse, and beyond that, the stables.”
“Has the wildfire production begun? And where are the pyromancers?” Aegor asked.
“They’ve started mixing, but we can’t produce much due to a lack of raw materials. So far, they’ve only managed to make a few jars. Still, the pyromancers claim it’s safer and easier to work here than in King’s Landing.”
“That’s good to hear,” Aegor remarked. He suspected the real reason was the resurgence of magic, making wildfire easier to produce everywhere. “Why are the stables empty? And what’s stored in the warehouse?”
“We’ve hidden the few horses we have on the island. As for the warehouse, it’s empty for now. We’re focused on construction, and the outpost hasn’t functioned as a supply depot yet.”
“Why not?”
“Security, my lord,” Yarm said, his voice heavy with frustration. “You might not realize it from the South, but the situation here in the North is dire. The wildlings are massing below the Wall. While they can’t breach Castle Black, they’ve sent raiding parties south. Smaller villages near the Wall have already been pillaged and burned. Here at Crown’s Rest, you gave me ten guards. I’ve hired a few workers from the Gift and Umber lands, but we’re still just forty-odd people. To the wildlings, we’re nothing more than a light snack.”
“During the day, we post sentries and work. At night, we retreat to the island and dismantle the bridge. The island is barely large enough for us to sleep on, let alone store supplies.”
Aegor frowned. He hadn’t anticipated the severity of the situation. While he had been comfortable in King’s Landing, the North and the Gift had turned into a battlefield. He had thought the wages offered to the advance team were generous, but now he wondered what amount could truly compensate for working under such conditions.
“Have there been any attacks so far?”
“There have, but the wildlings don’t bother with empty houses. Our people and supplies are on the island, and when they come, we dismantle the bridge. They leave, unwilling to waste time.”
“You’ve done well,” Aegor said sincerely. He had underestimated the challenges and now felt a deep respect for Yarm and his men. “Now that I’m here, we’ll fix this.”
Aegor surveyed the area, forming a plan. “Start by building a wall. Have you been to Runestone?”
“I have, my lord.”
“Then model it after Runestone. Build a small fortress near the bridge to control access. If attacked, we can retreat to the island. If the island is attacked, we can fall back to the fortress. Funds won’t be an issue.”
“How large should the wall be?”
“Enough to house a thousand people.”
“A thousand?” Yarm was astonished. “The entire Night’s Watch doesn’t have that many men!”
“That’s not your concern. If my plans succeed, a thousand won’t be enough.” Aegor gazed at the lake and the repaired buildings. “We’ll take it step by step. For now, stop hiding on the island. I’ve brought over a hundred men, and more will come. Castle Black can spare people, and I’ll station them here. You and the skilled workers can stay on the island, but the rest will live here and patrol.”
He turned to Yarm. “A base must be functional to be recognized. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord,” Yarm replied, though he didn’t fully grasp the scope of Aegor’s plans.
“Good. Double the advance team’s pay and focus on building the wall. We’re going to make Crown’s Rest the heart of the Gift—safe, self-sufficient, and ready to support the Wall.”
