Chapter 142

Robert had not yet returned to King’s Landing, but the orders he issued had already been delivered to the capital of the Seven Kingdoms by his messengers. Much like how Aegor had been appointed to join the royal army two months ago, the King might forget what he had said or commanded, but those who heard the orders, transmitted them, and especially those who received them, could not afford to let them slip their minds.

Robert’s decisions regarding the Guild of Pyromancers had already reached the ears of these so-called "sages" of the Alchemists’ Guild through various channels.

Two elderly men entered the room. One was the fire mage Hallyne, whom Aegor recognized, while the other was an even older man, so frail that he trembled as he walked.

"Good afternoon, wise men," Aegor said, setting aside his frustrations and flashing a bright smile. "I was about to come visit you if you hadn’t come to me first. Please, have a seat."

"Hmph!" The older fire mage yanked a chair toward him and sat down with a look of indignation.

"Aegor, this is Sage Harlin, who is considered my senior," Hallyne explained politely as he sat down in a more composed manner. After introducing his companion, he fell silent.

"You must think yourself quite impressive as the Chief Quartermaster," Harlin snarled, his lips trembling as he spat his words. "Our Alchemists’ Guild is already in ruins, yet you want to make it worse by sending us to the Wall? Are you trying to kill us old men on purpose?"

"The sages held a meeting and came to an agreement—going to the Wall is out of the question. If it means being beheaded, so be it," Hallyne said, far calmer than his companion. "Lord Aegor, if it’s wildfire you need, the cellars are full of it. You’re free to take as much as you want. Why involve the King and make things difficult for us old men?"

So that’s what this was about, Aegor thought, immediately understanding their hostility. "Wise men, where did you hear that I plan to send you to the Wall?"

"Don’t play dumb! Today, a messenger from King Robert came to inform us that we are to seal and secure all wildfire, leave behind assistants for management, and send all those capable of making wildfire to the North to serve the Night’s Watch. The messenger even said we should go to you for specific arrangements. Are you seriously going to deny this isn’t your doing?!"

"Fine, I won’t deny it," Aegor said after a pause, raising a hand to calm them. "But let’s not call it ‘scheming.’ It’s true that I requested the Alchemists’ Guild’s assistance from the King. However, who said serving the Night’s Watch means going to the Wall? My intention isn’t to harm you but to provide you with an opportunity to regain dignity, respect, and a chance to make your knowledge and skills shine for the benefit of Westeros."

Harlin glared at him. "Spare me the rhetoric! King Robert’s messenger said we’re to obey your instructions. Once we leave King’s Landing, our lives will be in your hands. So tell me, if not the Wall, how are we supposed to serve the Night’s Watch?"

Aegor smiled faintly. It was time to begin. "Nina, bring me the map of the North."

"Yes, my lord."

The young woman quickly went to a cabinet by the wall, searching diligently. Aegor sighed inwardly as he watched her. She was wasted as a mere secretary, yet she was so efficient and irreplaceable that finding someone better seemed impossible. Where in Westeros could one find such a clever, hardworking, and beautiful young woman? Arya was too young and mischievous, and while Margaery had far superior intellect, no noblewoman would stoop to working in a Night’s Watch office.

Before long, Nina returned with the map. "Here it is, my lord. Shall I unroll it?"

"Yes, lay it out."

Nina swept aside the clutter on the desk, unfurled the map, and used heavy objects to hold down its curled edges. The entire North, including the Wall, was displayed across Aegor’s desk.

"Wise men," Aegor began, gesturing to the map, "what I’m about to say, please relay to your peers. This," he traced along the dashed line marking the Wall, "is the northernmost border of the Seven Kingdoms. The Night’s Watch operates three major strongholds, nineteen castles, and nearly a thousand men along this line. Most of our resources are concentrated at the Wall. Hearing that you’re to serve the Night’s Watch and assuming it means going to the Wall is understandable, but that’s not my plan."

Relieved to hear they weren’t being sent to the Wall, the two elders visibly relaxed. Harlin’s trembling stopped, and he no longer stammered. Clearly, he was more senior and shrewd than Hallyne, and he quickly asked, "Then where exactly are we going, and what are we supposed to do? Please, enlighten us."

Aegor pointed south of the Wall. "From the mountains on the western coast to the plains stretching along the coast of the Bay of Seals lies a vast region known as the Gift. It spans over a hundred leagues and was permanently granted to the Night’s Watch by the rulers of the North and the Iron Throne to support the defense of the Wall. The land, its crops, and its resources belong to the Night’s Watch. Residents pay taxes in goods or labor to sustain us."

Harlin interrupted impatiently, tapping the desk. "We all know this. You’re saying we’ll be sent to the Gift, not the Wall. But what difference does it make? The Gift is a desolate, freezing wasteland, with barely a soul in sight even after a day on horseback, and wildlings constantly raiding and pillaging. How long would a bunch of old men like us survive there?"

Aegor straightened in his chair. "There’s a big difference. Yes, the Gift is sparsely populated, but that’s largely due to wildling raids. Its climate is far better than beyond the Wall. The Wall blocks the icy winds from the Lands of Always Winter, making the Gift much warmer in comparison. While it may snow occasionally, it’s not enough to kill you."

The fact that the Wall could block cold winds was dubious at best, but Aegor didn’t care if the fire mages understood meteorology or geography. He continued confidently, "The Gift has mountains, rivers, fertile soil for farming, and pastures for grazing. What I want you sages to do is settle in the Gift, establish a base, and produce wildfire to help the Night’s Watch fend off wildling attacks. Do you think the Night’s Watch would let you freeze or be slaughtered by wildlings?"

Harlin frowned. "Settle in the Gift? I’ve never even been to the North. How are we supposed to find a place to settle? Stop beating around the bush and just tell us your plan. If we’re not given proper accommodations and treatment, we’re not going anywhere."

"Fair enough!" Aegor declared. He pointed decisively at a spot on the map. "The place I’ve chosen for the Alchemists’ Guild sages is Queenscrown."

"Queenscrown?" Harlin repeated, confused. "Sounds grand, but I’ve never heard of it."

"It’s in the heart of the Gift, not far from the Kingsroad," Aegor explained. "Queen Alysanne Targaryen once stayed in a tower there. The townsfolk painted the tower’s roof gold to resemble a crown, hence the name."

"And what’s the population? Are there proper facilities, food, warmth?"

"Due to wildling raids, the residents fled long ago, leaving behind an empty village and abandoned houses," Aegor admitted. "But I will rebuild it. I’ll send workers north, recruit stonemasons from the North, and renovate the houses and towers. A wall will be erected to fortify it. Once complete, Queenscrown will serve as the Night’s Watch’s first logistics hub, providing both secure accommodations and facilities for wildfire production. Only after it’s ready will the Alchemists’ Guild sages move in. For the foreseeable future, Queenscrown will become the sole production site for wildfire in all of Westeros. This weapon, neglected and underestimated by Robert and the southern lords, will once again shine brightly in the defense of the Wall. And you, the sages of the Alchemists’ Guild, will reclaim your dignity and value far from King’s Landing."