Chapter 264

"No one broke the rules, my lord," Aegor replied with practiced ease, having anticipated this line of questioning. He answered without hesitation, calm and composed. "The Night's Watch did not participate in the conflict. The Gift’s forces that traveled south were not officially part of the Watch. I accompanied them, but I swear I did not take part in any battle—nor did I so much as touch a weapon."

"Don't play word games with me," Robb Stark said coldly. "The Gift is Night’s Watch territory, and the men you brought here used its name. Anyone can see the Watch is involved. As for not participating in the battles personally, with your rank and position, that’s hardly surprising."

"Allow me to explain the entire situation." Aegor pressed on, ignoring Robb’s skepticism. "After the Free Folk began crossing the Wall in large numbers to escape winter and the Others, the Gift’s population exploded. Faced with a severe food shortage, we had no choice but to turn to the North for help. The logistics department organized a supply convoy to circle the North, gathering as much grain as possible.

"When the convoy approached Glover lands, we received word that Deepwood Motte had been taken by unknown pirates."

"‘Unknown pirates’? Is that how the Night’s Watch refers to Ironborn invaders these days? Interesting." Robb’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile as he realized where Aegor was going with this. Just as Robert Baratheon had labeled the Brotherhood Without Banners as "rebels," Aegor was redefining the Ironborn in a way that justified his actions. "So, you ‘happened’ to retake Deepwood Motte, captured some prisoners, and only later discovered they were Greyjoys. And because you didn’t know beforehand, it doesn’t count as interfering in the Seven Kingdoms' internal affairs?"

"You could put it that way," Aegor replied smoothly. "In my homeland, there’s a saying: ‘Ignorance absolves guilt.’ But there’s another critical detail. A month ago, when the Free Folk launched a massive assault on the Wall, the Night’s Watch sought aid from the mountain clans. Thousands of their people answered our call and settled along the Wall to provide support. It so happened that a thousand of those warriors were part of the supply convoy, and they were the ones who carried out the attack on Deepwood Motte."

"Wait. The mountain clansmen—weren’t they brought here by you, the Night’s Watch Chief Logistics Officer?" Robb pressed, his tone sharp.

"From a legal perspective, the lands of the mountain clans are part of the North," Aegor explained. "The clans are merely temporary residents along the Wall, invited to provide assistance. They haven’t sworn the black, and they still owe their loyalty to House Stark. As your subjects, they saw Deepwood Motte under attack by pirates and, out of righteous anger, chose to intervene. As for myself and the Watch logistics team, we merely provided minimal guidance and support."

Robb frowned as he processed Aegor’s words. The mountain clans were technically his subjects, a truth he couldn’t deny. In the North’s history, the clans had always been a peculiar case. Northern rulers had typically managed them through a mix of appeasement and symbolic authority, granting clan leaders titles equivalent to minor lords. As long as they acknowledged Stark rule, paid small tributes, and sent representatives in times of war, the Starks left their internal affairs largely untouched.

But the scale of Aegor’s mobilization was unprecedented. Never before had a Northern leader commanded the clans so directly, much less deployed them as an organized military force. Robb, who had inherited his title after his father’s sudden death and had never personally dealt with the clans, realized his knowledge of them was limited to stories from his father and his bannermen.

...

Minimal guidance and support? Without a cohesive command structure, those clansmen would’ve struggled to march in formation, let alone capture Deepwood Motte and take Balon Greyjoy’s daughter prisoner.

Robb was no fool. He knew full well that Aegor or his subordinates must have been in complete command of the operation. Still, the Night’s Watch’s excuses were convincing enough on the surface. Stroking the short beard he’d recently grown to appear older and more authoritative, Robb allowed his expression to relax. "I see."

Sensing an opening, Aegor pressed his advantage. "So, to summarize: Northerners acted on their own to drive out invaders, and I, as a Watchman, happened to be in the right place at the right time and got caught up in it, serving only as a ‘prisoner handler.’"

Robb stared at him for a moment, his serious expression breaking into a slight smirk. It had been months since they last met, but in that time, Aegor’s ability to weave half-truths had clearly improved.

The explanation was flimsy at best, but it was just enough to placate the ignorant. Anyone with even a shred of critical thinking or access to better information wouldn’t buy it. Instinctively, Robb felt uneasy about Aegor’s rule-bending, but emotionally, he couldn’t bring himself to criticize the man too harshly. After all, the North had benefited greatly from Aegor’s actions. How could he, as a beneficiary, stand with others to condemn him?

"Fine. I’ll accept and acknowledge your version of events," Robb said finally. He wasn’t fooled, but the explanation was enough to provide a facade for the other kingdoms. "I owe you a personal debt. But you’ve broken rules, so don’t go spreading this story around. Publicly, I’ll announce that the mountain clans reclaimed Deepwood Motte for the North."

"Of course. I only came south to procure supplies for the Watch. As for everything else, I know nothing."

"Good." Robb nodded approvingly. The two men, one spinning tales and the other pretending to believe them, came to an unspoken agreement. And so, one of the most egregious breaches of the Night’s Watch’s ancient rules was quietly swept under the rug. "This place stinks. I’ll find somewhere to stay in the northern camp tonight. Let’s leave it at that for now."

That’s it? Aegor was momentarily stunned. He had prepared a list of topics to discuss with Robb, laying traps to maneuver the young lord into concessions. But Robb, having skirted the edge of Aegor’s rhetorical pitfalls, had suddenly stopped engaging.

"My lord, about the Ironborn prisoners, the surrendering soldiers, and the plans to resettle the Free Folk—"

"The clans can decide what to do with the prisoners they captured. As for the surrendering soldiers, if they’re willing to take the black, they’re your responsibility now." Robb turned and began descending the wall, throwing one final remark over his shoulder. "There are many things I need to discuss with you—about Bran, about the Free Folk you’ve let in—but today is not the time. Driving out the Ironborn and defending our homeland is a sweet victory, but there’s still much to do. My army will celebrate here for the next two days, then disperse to their homes. I’ll return to Winterfell. You’ll pass through there on your way back to the Wall, so we’ll speak then."

With that, Robb walked away.

Aegor, left with no choice, swallowed his frustration. A few extra days to prepare wasn’t the worst outcome. "Understood."