Chapter 247

"Jon, no one could have predicted that Lord Commander Mormont would meet such a fate at this crucial juncture. I’m not here to discuss whose fault it is or what mistakes were made. The dead are gone; the living must carry on. To be blunt, the Night’s Watch is in more danger now than ever before, and I need your help.”

Jon’s direwolf, Ghost, had grown so large he looked like a white-furred calf. Aegor, despite being familiar with the beast, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of unease as those crimson eyes stared at him curiously. Ghost sat calmly beside Jon, a stark contrast to his master, who still seemed dazed by the sudden death of Mormont. Jon swallowed nervously at the sight of Aegor’s grim expression. “Is it really... that serious?”

Aegor nodded. “It is. The New Gift resettlement plan has essentially gambled everything the Night’s Watch stands for—its resources, its reputation. Once it began, there was no turning back. With Mormont’s funeral, the election for the 998th Lord Commander will begin. If an opponent of integrating the wildlings takes command and decides to dismantle everything we’ve worked for, what do you think will happen?”

“All our efforts would be wasted,” Jon replied, his focus sharpening. “But... the wildlings—or, um, the new settlers—they’ve already been let through the Wall. If the plan is scrapped, what would the new Commander do with them?”

“That’s the issue. My plan is to integrate them into the Gift, make them subjects of the Seven Kingdoms. That’s the ideal outcome. But do you know what Bowden Marsh wants? To take their grain, turn on them, and drive them back beyond the Wall.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Of course it is. From the wildlings’ perspective, it’s a death sentence. Even without proper weapons, they’d grab sticks and fight to the death. And from the Night’s Watch’s perspective, sending them back would only swell the ranks of the Others. I’d rather kill them all than let even one of them rejoin the army of the dead.”

“Kill them all?” Jon looked horrified. “But we’ve already let them through the Wall! Even if we didn’t give every single one bread and salt... by some measure, they’re still our guests. Violating guest right would curse us!”

“A curse? Perhaps. But think about it—these so-called guests have barely entered our ‘house,’ and they’ve already stoned our host to death. Who violated guest right first?”

“That’s not the same,” Jon stammered. “The ones who killed Lord Commander Mormont were just a handful of the settlers. Condemning all thirty thousand of them as enemies... isn’t that...”

Aegor had only meant to scare him. Seeing Jon’s distress, he waved his hand to calm him. “You’re right, of course. But I’m afraid you’d struggle to convince your brothers of that. Few men can stay as rational as you or me in the face of something like this. To most of the Watch, it’s simple: ‘wildlings’ killed Mormont. And in some sense, they’re not wrong. You can’t fault them for thinking that. Which is why it’s vital that we make sure the next Lord Commander is someone clear-headed and on our side.”

Jon nodded quickly. “That makes sense. What can I do?”

“Before his death, Mormont had been grooming you as his successor. I haven’t been on the Wall long, so I don’t know the nuances of the situation. Tell me—if you were to run for Lord Commander now, what are your chances?”

“None at all,” Jon admitted honestly. “Mormont taught me how to lead, but knowing how is far from enough. The election comes down to the brothers’ votes. Noble blood, years of service in the Watch, connections, charisma—those are what matter. And of these, I can barely claim half of one. There are others far more qualified—Ser Denys Mallister at the Shadow Tower, Cotter Pyke at Eastwatch... even Bowden Marsh here at Castle Black. They all ran against Mormont before, and he only won because of his high birth and experience. I can’t compete with them.”

Aegor considered this and quickly realized Jon’s “half-box” was his Stark lineage. As Eddard Stark’s bastard, Jon was both noble-born and not, leaving him in an awkward middle ground. Beyond that, Jon had served in the Watch for only a year. He had yet to prove himself, especially under the shadow of Mormont—and Aegor. Mormont might have seen Jon as a future Commander, but he hadn’t prepared him enough before tragedy struck.

This boy wouldn’t do. In the original story, Jon only became Lord Commander because of Samwell’s tricks and Stannis’s intervention. Without them, who could Aegor count on now? Among the officers supporting his plans, was there anyone suitable to push forward?

“Why not run yourself?” Jon hesitated before speaking his mind. “You may not have been in the Watch long, but everyone knows how much you’ve done for the Watch. Life’s been better since you became First Logistics Officer. And you’ve killed an Other—that’s something no one else can claim. I’ll nominate you and tell my friends to vote for you.”

Run himself? It was an option, but an unrealistic one. Aegor had spent little effort building alliances within the Watch, relying on Mormont’s trust and authority. Expecting two-thirds of the sworn brothers to support a foreigner with no noble title and less than two years in the Watch, half of which had been spent in King’s Landing, was a fantasy.

Even if he ignored the odds of winning, becoming Lord Commander would complicate his plans. The position was for life, as was the Night’s Watch oath. The two combined created a near-insurmountable obstacle to leaving the Watch.

If the 998th Lord Commander Aegor West were to create new rules allowing brothers to leave the Watch and then take advantage of them himself, how would the world perceive him? How would his brothers, or the Seven Kingdoms?

“I’ll think about it,” Aegor said, unsure if the risks outweighed the benefits. For now, he had a more urgent crisis to deal with. “There is one thing you can do for me immediately. Someone has to answer for Mormont’s death. If we don’t find a scapegoat, the brothers will blame me as the one who orchestrated the resettlement plan. I intend to make an example of the tribe responsible. If all goes well, this crisis will pass, but it could also cause greater problems. The settlers might misunderstand and think we’re betraying them.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Visit the villages. Explain the situation to their leaders. Tell them to publicly support the Night’s Watch in bringing the culprits to justice.”

“Understood.”

“To make things easier, take a wildling with you... your little girlfriend, Ygritte. Bring her.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Fine, I apologize.” Aegor waved dismissively, too preoccupied to argue. “One might not be enough. How many wildlings are here in Castle Black?”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to have Mance Rayder handle this? As King-Beyond-the-Wall, his word carries weight with the wildlings.”

“Don’t be naïve,” Aegor snapped. “The situation is too volatile, even we don’t know where it’s headed. Why would Mance Rayder trust me? How do you know he wouldn’t use this as an opportunity to incite rebellion? Whatever happens, we can’t let him leave Castle Black.”

“Understood,” Jon said quickly.

“Still, you’ve given me an idea. Mance Rayder stays, but his family doesn’t have to. Take his wife’s sister—Val, the so-called ‘wildling princess.’ She’s smart. Talk to her before you leave. Make sure she understands the stakes and plans how to convince the other chiefs.”

“She’s not a princess. Wildlings don’t have princesses.”

“Oh, for the love of—” Aegor rubbed his temples. “I know wildlings don’t have royalty. But if everyone knows who you mean when you say ‘wildling princess,’ then what’s the difference? Enough of this. One more thing—tell the settlers, subtly, that the Night’s Watch is about to elect a new Lord Commander. If a conservative takes the position, it will be bad for them. I’m trying to prevent that.”

“But... how does that help us? Only sworn brothers vote. Unless you change the rules to let settlers vote, but you’d have to become Lord Commander first. That’s contradictory...”

If the settlers had a vote, they’d probably elect Mance Rayder as Lord Commander. The thought was absurd. Aegor didn’t even know if this would achieve anything. It was just a habit to keep as many paths open as possible. “I don’t know yet, but at worst, it’s wasted effort. Go prepare. I’ll assign ten guards to you, but be careful. And wear a helmet.”

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