“All praise R’hllor, the Lord of Light,” the wedding guests answered in ragged2 chorus before a gust3 of ice-cold wind blew their words away. Jon Snow raised the hood4 of his cloak.
The snowfall was light today, a thin scattering5 of flakes6 dancing in the air, but the wind was blowing from the east along the Wall, cold as the breath of the ice dragon in the tales Old Nan used to tell. Even Melisandre’s fire was shivering; the flames huddled7 down in the ditch, crackling softly as the red priestess sang. Only Ghost seemed not to feel the chill.
Alys Karstark leaned close to Jon. “Snow during a wedding means a cold marriage. My lady mother always said so.”
He glanced at Queen Selyse. There must have been a blizzard9 the day she and Stannis wed1. Huddled beneath her ermine mantle10 and surrounded by her ladies, serving girls, and knights11, the southron queen seemed a frail12, pale, shrunken thing. A strained smile was frozen into place on her thin lips, but her eyes brimmed with reverence13. She hates the cold but loves the flames. He had only to look at her to see that. A word from Melisandre, and she would walk into the fire willingly, embrace it like a lover.
Not all her queen’s men seemed to share her fervor14. Ser Brus appeared half-drunk, Ser Malegorn’s gloved hand was cupped round the arse of the lady beside him, Ser Narbert was yawning, and Ser Patrek of King’s Mountain looked angry. Jon Snow had begun to understand why Stannis had left them with his queen.
“The night is dark and filled with terrors,” Melisandre sang. “Alone we are born and alone we die, but as we walk through this black vale we draw strength from one another, and from you, our lord.” Her scarlet17 silks and satins swirled19 with every gust of wind. “Two come forth20 today to join their lives, so they may face this world’s darkness together. Fill their hearts with fire, my lord, so they may walk your shining path hand in hand forever.”
“Lord of Light, protect us,” cried Queen Selyse. Other voices echoed the response. Melisandre’s faithful: pallid21 ladies, shivering serving girls, Ser Axell and Ser Narbert and Ser Lambert, men-at-arms in iron mail and Thenns in bronze, even a few of Jon’s black brothers. “Lord of Light, bless your children.”
Melisandre’s back was to the Wall, on one side of the deep ditch where her fire burned. The couple to be joined faced her across the ditch. Behind them stood the queen, with her daughter and her tattooed23 fool. Princess Shireen was wrapped in so many furs that she looked round, breathing in white puffs24 through the scarf that covered most of her face. Ser Axell Florent and his queen’s men surrounded the royal party.
Though only a few men of the Night’s Watch had gathered about the ditchfire, more looked down from rooftops and windows and the steps of the great switchback stair. Jon took careful note of who was there and who was not. Some men had the duty; many just off watch were fast asleep. But others had chosen to absent themselves to show their disapproval25. Othell Yarwyck and Bowen Marsh26 were amongst the missing. Septon Chayle had emerged briefly27 from the sept, fingering the seven-sided crystal on the thong28 about his neck, only to retreat inside again once the prayers began.
Melisandre raised her hands, and the ditchfire leapt upward toward her fingers, like a great red dog springing for a treat. A swirl18 of sparks rose to meet the snowflakes coming down. “Oh, Lord of Light, we thank you,” she sang to the hungry flames. “We thank you for brave Stannis, by your grace our king. Guide him and defend him, R’hllor. Protect him from the treacheries of evil men and grant him strength to smite29 the servants of the dark.”
“Grant him strength,” answered Queen Selyse and her knights and ladies. “Grant him courage. Grant him wisdom.”
Alys Karstark slipped her arm through Jon’s. “How much longer, Lord Snow? If I’m to be buried beneath this snow, I’d like to die a woman wed.”
“Soon, my lady,” Jon assured her. “Soon.”
“We thank you for the sun that warms us,” chanted the queen. “We thank you for the stars that watch over us in the black of night. We thank you for our hearths30 and for our torches that keep the savage31 dark at bay. We thank you for our bright spirits, the fires in our loins and in our hearts.”
And Melisandre said, “Let them come forth, who would be joined.” The flames cast her shadow on the Wall behind her, and her ruby32 gleamed against the paleness of her throat.
Jon turned to Alys Karstark. “My lady. Are you ready?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
“You’re not scared?”
The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. “Let him be scared of me.” The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes sparkled.
“Winter’s lady.” Jon squeezed her hand.
The Magnar of Thenn stood waiting by the fire, clad as if for battle, in fur and leather and bronze scales, a bronze sword at his hip33. His receding34 hair made him look older than his years, but as he turned to watch his bride approach, Jon could see the boy in him. His eyes were big as walnuts35, though whether it was the fire, the priestess, or the woman that had put the fear in him Jon could not say. Alys was more right than she knew.
“Who brings this woman to be wed?” asked Melisandre.
“I do,” said Jon. “Now comes Alys of House Karstark, a woman grown and flowered, of noble blood and birth.” He gave her hand one last squeeze and stepped back to join the others.
“Who comes forth to claim this woman?” asked Melisandre.
“Me.” Sigorn slapped his chest. “Magnar of Thenn.”
“Sigorn,” asked Melisandre, “will you share your fire with Alys, and warm her when the night is dark and full of terrors?”
“I swear me.” The Magnar’s promise was a white cloud in the air. Snow dappled his shoulders. His ears were red. “By the red god’s flames, I warm her all her days.”
“Alys, do you swear to share your fire with Sigorn, and warm him when the night is dark and full of terrors?”
“Till his blood is boiling.” Her maiden’s cloak was the black wool of the Night’s Watch. The Karstark sunburst sewn on its back was made of the same white fur that lined it.
Melisandre’s eyes shone as bright as the ruby at her throat. “Then come to me and be as one.” As she beckoned36, a wall of flames roared upward, licking at the snowflakes with hot orange tongues. Alys Karstark took her Magnar by the hand.
Side by side they leapt the ditch.
“Two went into the flames.” A gust of wind lifted the red woman’s scarlet skirts till she pressed them down again. “One emerges.” Her coppery hair danced about her head. “What fire joins, none may put asunder38.”
“What fire joins, none may put asunder,” came the echo, from queen’s men and Thenns and even a few of the black brothers.
Except for kings and uncles, thought Jon Snow.
Cregan Karstark had turned up a day behind his niece. With him came four mounted men-at-arms, a huntsman, and a pack of dogs, sniffing39 after Lady Alys as if she were a deer. Jon Snow met them on the kingsroad half a league south of Mole’s Town, before they could turn up at Castle Black, claim guest right, or call for parley40. One of Karstark’s men had loosed a crossbow quarrel at Ty and died for it. That left four, and Cregan himself.
Fortunately they had a dozen ice cells. Room for all.
Like so much else, heraldry ended at the Wall. The Thenns had no family arms as was customary amongst the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms, so Jon told the stewards41 to improvise43. He thought they had done well. The bride’s cloak Sigorn fastened about Lady Alys’s shoulders showed a bronze disk on a field of white wool, surrounded by flames made with wisps of crimson44 silk. The echo of the Karstark sunburst was there for those who cared to look, but differenced to make the arms appropriate for House Thenn.
The Magnar all but ripped the maiden’s cloak from Alys’s shoulders, but when he fastened her bride’s cloak about her he was almost tender. As he leaned down to kiss her cheek, their breath mingled45. The flames roared once again. The queen’s men began to sing a song of praise. “Is it done?” Jon heard Satin whisper.
“Done and done,” muttered Mully, “and a good thing. They’re wed and I’m half-froze.” He was muffled46 up in his best blacks, woolens47 so new that they had hardly had a chance to fade yet, but the wind had turned his cheeks as red as his hair. “Hobb’s mulled some wine with cinnamon and cloves48. That’ll warm us some.”
“What’s cloves?” asked Owen the Oaf.
The snow had started to descend49 more heavily and the fire in the ditch was guttering50 out. The crowd began to break apart and stream from the yard, queen’s men, king’s men, and free folk alike, all anxious to get out of the wind and the cold. “Will my lord be feasting with us?” Mully asked Jon Snow.
“Shortly.” Sigorn might take it as a slight if he did not appear. And this marriage is mine own work, after all. “I have other matters to attend to first, however.”
Jon crossed to Queen Selyse, with Ghost beside him. His boots crunched51 through piles of old snow. It was growing ever more time-consuming to shovel52 out the paths from one building to another; more and more, the men were resorting to the underground passages they called wormways.
“… such a beautiful rite,” the queen was saying. “I could feel our lord’s fiery53 gaze upon us. Oh, you cannot know how many times I have begged Stannis to let us be wed again, a true joining of body and spirit blessed by the Lord of Light. I know that I could give His Grace more children if we were bound in fire.”
To give him more children you would first need to get him into your bed. Even at the Wall, it was common knowledge that Stannis Baratheon had shunned54 his wife for years. One could only imagine how His Grace had responded to the notion of a second wedding in the midst of his war.
Jon bowed. “If it please Your Grace, the feast awaits.”
The queen glanced at Ghost suspiciously, then raised her head to Jon. “To be sure. Lady Melisandre knows the way.”
The red priestess spoke55 up. “I must attend my fires, Your Grace. Perhaps R’hllor will vouchsafe56 me a glimpse of His Grace. A glimpse of some great victory, mayhaps.”
“Oh.” Queen Selyse looked stricken. “To be sure … let us pray for a vision from our lord …”
“Satin, show Her Grace to her place,” said Jon.
Ser Malegorn stepped forward. “I will escort Her Grace to the feast. We shall not require your … steward42.” The way the man drew out the last word told Jon that he had been considering saying something else. Boy? Pet? Whore?
Jon bowed again. “As you wish. I shall join you shortly.”
Ser Malegorn offered his arm, and Queen Selyse took it stiffly. Her other hand settled on her daughter’s shoulder. The royal ducklings fell in behind them as they made their way across the yard, marching to the music of the bells on the fool’s hat. “Under the sea the mermen feast on starfish soup, and all the serving men are crabs,” Patchface proclaimed as they went. “I know, I know, oh, oh, oh.”
Melisandre’s face darkened. “That creature is dangerous. Many a time I have glimpsed him in my flames. Sometimes there are skulls57 about him, and his lips are red with blood.”
A wonder you haven’t had the poor man burned. All it would take was a word in the queen’s ear, and Patchface would feed her fires. “You see fools in your fire, but no hint of Stannis?”
“When I search for him all I see is snow.”
The same useless answer. Clydas had dispatched a raven58 to Deepwood Motte to warn the king of Arnolf Karstark’s treachery, but whether the bird had reached His Grace in time Jon did not know. The Braavosi banker was off in search of Stannis as well, accompanied by the guides that Jon had given him, but between the war and weather, it would be a wonder if he found him. “Would you know if the king was dead?” Jon asked the red priestess.
“He is not dead. Stannis is the Lord’s chosen, destined59 to lead the fight against the dark. I have seen it in the flames, read of it in ancient prophecy. When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone. Dragonstone is the place of smoke and salt.”
Jon had heard all this before. “Stannis Baratheon was the Lord of Dragonstone, but he was not born there. He was born at Storm’s End, like his brothers.” He frowned. “And what of Mance? Is he lost as well? What do your fires show?”
“The same, I fear. Only snow.”
Snow. It was snowing heavily to the south, Jon knew. Only two days’ ride from here, the kingsroad was said to be impassable. Melisandre knows that too. And to the east, a savage storm was raging on the Bay of Seals. At last report, the ragtag fleet they had assembled to rescue the free folk from Hardhome still huddled at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, confined to port by the rough seas. “You are seeing cinders60 dancing in the updraft.”
“I am seeing skulls. And you. I see your face every time I look into the flames. The danger that I warned you of grows very close now.”
“Daggers in the dark. I know. You will forgive my doubts, my lady. A grey girl on a dying horse, fleeing from a marriage, that was what you said.”
“I was not wrong.”
“You were not right. Alys is not Arya.”
“The vision was a true one. It was my reading that was false. I am as mortal as you, Jon Snow. All mortals err16.”
“Even lord commanders.” Mance Rayder and his spearwives had not returned, and Jon could not help but wonder whether the red woman had lied of a purpose. Is she playing her own game?
“You would do well to keep your wolf beside you, my lord.”
“Ghost is seldom far.” The direwolf raised his head at the sound of his name. Jon scratched him behind the ears. “But now you must excuse me. Ghost, with me.”
Carved from the base of the Wall and closed with heavy wooden doors, the ice cells ranged from small to smaller. Some were big enough to allow a man to pace, others so small that prisoners were forced to sit; the smallest were too cramped61 to allow even that.
Jon had given his chief captive the largest cell, a pail to shit in, enough furs to keep him from freezing, and a skin of wine. It took the guards some time to open his cell, as ice had formed inside the lock. Rusted62 hinges screamed like damned souls when Wick Whittlestick yanked the door wide enough for Jon to slip through. A faint fecal odor greeted him, though less overpowering than he’d expected. Even shit froze solid in such bitter cold. Jon Snow could see his own reflection dimly inside the icy walls.
In one corner of the cell a heap of furs was piled up almost to the height of a man. “Karstark,” said Jon Snow. “Wake up.”
The furs stirred. Some had frozen together, and the frost that covered them glittered when they moved. An arm emerged, then a face—brown hair, tangled63 and matted and streaked64 with grey, two fierce eyes, a nose, a mouth, a beard. Ice caked the prisoner’s mustache, clumps65 of frozen snot. “Snow.” His breath steamed in the air, fogging the ice behind his head. “You have no right to hold me. The laws of hospitality—”
“You are no guest of mine. You came to the Wall without my leave, armed, to carry off your niece against her will. Lady Alys was given bread and salt. She is a guest. You are a prisoner.” Jon let that hang for a moment, then said, “Your niece is wed.”
Cregan Karstark’s lips skinned back from his teeth. “Alys was promised to me.” Though past fifty, he had been a strong man when he went into the cell. The cold had robbed him of that strength and left him stiff and weak. “My lord father—”
“Your father is a castellan, not a lord. And a castellan has no right to make marriage pacts66.”
“My father, Arnolf, is Lord of Karhold.”
“A son comes before an uncle by all the laws I know.”
Cregan pushed himself to his feet and kicked aside the furs clinging to his ankles. “Harrion is dead.”
Or will be soon. “A daughter comes before an uncle too. If her brother is dead, Karhold belongs to Lady Alys. And she has given her hand in marriage to Sigorn, Magnar of Thenn.”
“A wildling. A filthy67, murdering wildling.” Cregan’s hands closed into fists. The gloves that covered them were leather, lined with fur to match the cloak that hung matted and stiff from his broad shoulders. His black wool surcoat was emblazoned with the white sunburst of his house. “I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling, baseborn get of a traitor68 and a whore. You would deliver a highborn maid to the bed of some stinking69 savage. Did you sample her yourself first?” He laughed. “If you mean to kill me, do it and be damned for a kinslayer. Stark8 and Karstark are one blood.”
“My name is Snow.”
“Bastard70.”
“Guilty. Of that, at least.”
“Let this Magnar come to Karhold. We’ll hack71 off his head and stuff it in a privy72, so we can piss into his mouth.”
“Sigorn leads two hundred Thenns,” Jon pointed73 out, “and Lady Alys believes Karhold will open its gates to her. Two of your men have already sworn her their service and confirmed all she had to say concerning the plans your father made with Ramsay Snow. You have close kin15 at Karhold, I am told. A word from you could save their lives. Yield the castle. Lady Alys will pardon the women who betrayed her and allow the men to take the black.”
Cregan shook his head. Chunks74 of ice had formed about the tangles75 in his hair, and clicked together softly when he moved. “Never,” he said. “Never, never, never.”
I should make his head a wedding gift for Lady Alys and her Magnar, Jon thought, but dare not take the risk. The Night’s Watch took no part in the quarrels of the realm; some would say he had already given Stannis too much help. Behead this fool, and they will claim I am killing76 northmen to give their lands to wildlings. Release him, and he will do his best to rip apart all I’ve done with Lady Alys and the Magnar. Jon wondered what his father would do, how his uncle might deal with this. But Eddard Stark was dead, Benjen Stark lost in the frozen wilds beyond the Wall. You know nothing, Jon Snow.
“Never is a long time,” Jon said. “You may feel differently on the morrow, or a year from now. Soon or late King Stannis will return to the Wall, however. When he does he will have you put to death … unless it happens that you are wearing a black cloak. When a man takes the black, his crimes are wiped away.” Even such a man as you. “Now pray excuse me. I have a feast to attend.”
After the biting cold of the ice cells, the crowded cellar was so hot that Jon felt suffocated77 from the moment he came down the steps. The air smelled of smoke and roasting meat and mulled wine. Axell Florent was making a toast as Jon took his place upon the dais. “To King Stannis and his wife, Queen Selyse, Light of the North!” Ser Axell bellowed78. “To R’hllor, the Lord of Light, may he defend us all! One land, one god, one king!”
“One land, one god, one king!” the queen’s men echoed.
Jon drank with the rest. Whether Alys Karstark would find any joy in her marriage he could not say, but this one night at least should be one of celebration.
The stewards began to bring out the first dish, an onion broth22 flavored with bits of goat and carrot. Not precisely79 royal fare, but nourishing; it tasted good enough and warmed the belly80. Owen the Oaf took up his fiddle81, and several of the free folk joined in with pipes and drums. The same pipes and drums they played to sound Mance Rayder’s attack upon the Wall. Jon thought they sounded sweeter now. With the broth came loaves of coarse brown bread, warm from the oven. Salt and butter sat upon the tables. The sight made Jon gloomy. They were well provided with salt, Bowen Marsh had told him, but the last of the butter would be gone within a moon’s turn.
Old Flint and The Norrey had been given places of high honor just below the dais. Both men had been too old to march with Stannis; they had sent their sons and grandsons in their stead. But they had been quick enough to descend on Castle Black for the wedding. Each had brought a wet nurse to the Wall as well. The Norrey woman was forty, with the biggest breasts Jon Snow had ever seen. The Flint girl was fourteen and flat-chested as a boy, though she did not lack for milk. Between the two of them, the child Val called Monster seemed to be thriving.
For that much Jon was grateful … but he did not believe for a moment that two such hoary82 old warriors83 would have hied down from their hills for that alone. Each had brought a tail of fighting men—five for Old Flint, twelve for The Norrey, all clad in ragged skins and studded leathers, fearsome as the face of winter. Some had long beards, some had scars, some had both; all worshiped the old gods of the north, those same gods worshiped by the free folk beyond the Wall. Yet here they sat, drinking to a marriage hallowed by some queer red god from beyond the seas.
Better that than refuse to drink. Neither Flint nor Norrey had turned their cups over to spill their wine upon the floor. That might betoken85 a certain acceptance. Or perhaps they just hate to waste good southron wine. They will not have tasted much of it up in those stony86 hills of theirs.
Between courses, Ser Axell Florent led Queen Selyse out onto the floor to dance. Others followed—the queen’s knights first, partnered with her ladies. Ser Brus gave Princess Shireen her first dance, then took a turn with her mother. Ser Narbert danced with each of Selyse’s lady companions in turn.
The queen’s men outnumbered the queen’s ladies three to one, so even the humblest serving girls were pressed into the dance. After a few songs some black brothers remembered skills learned at the courts and castles of their youth, before their sins had sent them to the Wall, and took the floor as well. That old rogue87 Ulmer of the Kingswood proved as adept88 at dancing as he was at archery, no doubt regaling his partners with his tales of the Kingswood Brotherhood89, when he rode with Simon Toyne and Big Belly Ben and helped Wenda the White Fawn90 burn her mark in the buttocks of her highborn captives. Satin was all grace, dancing with three serving girls in turn but never presuming to approach a highborn lady. Jon judged that wise. He did not like the way some of the queen’s knights were looking at the steward, particularly Ser Patrek of King’s Mountain. That one wants to shed a bit of blood, he thought. He is looking for some provocation91.
When Owen the Oaf began to dance with Patchface the fool, laughter echoed off the vaulted92 ceiling. The sight made Lady Alys smile. “Do you dance often, here at Castle Black?”
“Every time we have a wedding, my lady.”
“You could dance with me, you know. It would be only courteous93. You danced with me anon.”
“Anon?” teased Jon.
“When we were children.” She tore off a bit of bread and threw it at him. “As you know well.”
“My lady should dance with her husband.”
“My Magnar is not one for dancing, I fear. If you will not dance with me, at least pour me some of the mulled wine.”
“As you command.” He signaled for a flagon.
“So,” said Alys, as Jon poured, “I am now a woman wed. A wildling husband with his own little wildling army.”
“Free folk is what they call themselves. Most, at least. The Thenns are a people apart, though. Very old.” Ygritte had told him that. You know nothing, Jon Snow. “They come from a hidden vale at the north end of the Frostfangs, surrounded by high peaks, and for thousands of years they’ve had more truck with the giants than with other men. It made them different.”
“Different,” she said, “but more like us.”
“Aye, my lady. The Thenns have lords and laws.” They know how to kneel. “They mine tin and copper37 for bronze, forge their own arms and armor instead of stealing it. A proud folk, and brave. Mance Rayder had to best the old Magnar thrice before Styr would accept him as King-Beyond-the-Wall.”
“And now they are here, on our side of the Wall. Driven from their mountain fastness and into my bedchamber.” She smiled a wry94 smile. “It is my own fault. My lord father told me I must charm your brother Robb, but I was only six and didn’t know how.”
Aye, but now you’re almost six-and-ten, and we must pray you will know how to charm your new husband. “My lady, how do things stand at Karhold with your food stores?”
“Not well.” Alys sighed. “My father took so many of our men south with him that only the women and young boys were left to bring the harvest in. Them, and the men too old or crippled to go off to war. Crops withered95 in the fields or were pounded into the mud by autumn rains. And now the snows are come. This winter will be hard. Few of the old people will survive it, and many children will perish as well.”
It was a tale that any northmen knew well. “My father’s grandmother was a Flint of the mountains, on his mother’s side,” Jon told her. “The First Flints, they call themselves. They say the other Flints are the blood of younger sons, who had to leave the mountains to find food and land and wives. It has always been a harsh life up there. When the snows fall and food grows scarce, their young must travel to the winter town or take service at one castle or the other. The old men gather up what strength remains96 in them and announce that they are going hunting. Some are found come spring. More are never seen again.”
“It is much the same at Karhold.”
That did not surprise him. “When your stores begin to dwindle97, my lady, remember us. Send your old men to the Wall, let them say our words. Here at least they will not die alone in the snow, with only memories to warm them. Send us boys as well, if you have boys to spare.”
“As you say.” She touched his hand. “Karhold remembers.”
The elk98 was being carved. It smelled better than Jon had any reason to expect. He dispatched a portion to Leathers out at Hardin’s Tower, along with three big platters of roast vegetables for Wun Wun, then ate a healthy slice himself. Three-Finger Hobb’s acquitted99 himself well. That had been a concern. Hobb had come to him two nights ago complaining that he’d joined the Night’s Watch to kill wildlings, not to cook for them. “Besides, I never done no wedding feast, m’lord. Black brothers don’t never take no wifes. It’s in the bloody100 vows101, I swear ’tis.”
Jon was washing the roast down with a sip102 of mulled wine when Clydas appeared at his elbow. “A bird,” he announced, and slipped a parchment into Jon’s hand. The note was sealed with a dot of hard black wax. Eastwatch, Jon knew, even before he broke the seal. The letter had been written by Maester Harmune; Cotter Pyke could neither read nor write. But the words were Pyke’s, set down as he had spoken them, blunt and to the point.
Calm seas today. Eleven ships set sail for Hardhome on the morning tide. Three Braavosi, four Lyseni, four of ours. Two of the Lyseni barely seaworthy. We may drown more wildlings than we save. Your command. Twenty ravens104 aboard, and Maester Harmune. Will send reports. I command from Talon105, Tattersalt second on Blackbird, Ser Glendon holds Eastwatch.
“Dark wings, dark words?” asked Alys Karstark.
“No, my lady. This news was long awaited.” Though the last part troubles me. Glendon Hewett was a seasoned man and a strong one, a sensible choice to command in Cotter Pyke’s absence. But he was also as much a friend as Alliser Thorne could boast, and a crony of sorts with Janos Slynt, however briefly. Jon could still recall how Hewett had dragged him from his bed, and the feel of his boot slamming into his ribs106. Not the man I would have chosen. He rolled the parchment up and slipped it into his belt.
The fish course was next, but as the pike was being boned Lady Alys dragged the Magnar up onto the floor. From the way he moved it was plain that Sigorn had never danced before, but he had drunk enough mulled wine so that it did not seem to matter.
“A northern maid and a wildling warrior84, bound together by the Lord of Light.” Ser Axell Florent slipped into Lady Alys’s vacant seat. “Her Grace approves. I am close to her, my lord, so I know her mind. King Stannis will approve as well.”
Unless Roose Bolton has stuck his head on a spear.
“Not all agree, alas107.” Ser Axell’s beard was a ragged brush beneath his sagging108 chin; coarse hair sprouted109 from his ears and nostrils110. “Ser Patrek feels he would have made a better match for Lady Alys. His lands were lost to him when he came north.”
“There are many in this hall who have lost far more than that,” said Jon, “and more who have given up their lives in service to the realm. Ser Patrek should count himself fortunate.”
Axell Florent smiled. “The king might say the same if he were here. Yet some provision must be made for His Grace’s leal knights, surely? They have followed him so far and at such cost. And we must needs bind111 these wildlings to king and realm. This marriage is a good first step, but I know that it would please the queen to see the wildling princess wed as well.”
Jon sighed. He was weary of explaining that Val was no true princess. No matter how often he told them, they never seemed to hear. “You are persistent112, Ser Axell, I grant you that.”
“Do you blame me, my lord? Such a prize is not easily won. A nubile113 girl, I hear, and not hard to look upon. Good hips103, good breasts, well made for whelping children.”
“Who would father these children? Ser Patrek? You?”
“Who better? We Florents have the blood of the old Gardener kings in our veins114. Lady Melisandre could perform the rites115, as she did for Lady Alys and the Magnar.”
“All you are lacking is a bride.”
“Easily remedied.” Florent’s smile was so false that it looked painful. “Where is she, Lord Snow? Have you moved her to one of your other castles? Greyguard or the Shadow Tower? Whore’s Burrow116, with t’other wenches?” He leaned close. “Some say you have her tucked away for your own pleasure. It makes no matter to me, so long as she is not with child. I’ll get my own sons on her. If you’ve broken her to saddle, well … we are both men of the world, are we not?”
Jon had heard enough. “Ser Axell, if you are truly the Queen’s Hand, I pity Her Grace.”
Florent’s face grew flushed with anger. “So it is true. You mean to keep her for yourself, I see it now. The bastard wants his father’s seat.”
The bastard refused his father’s seat. If the bastard had wanted Val, all he had to do was ask for her. “You must excuse me, ser,” he said. “I need a breath of fresh air.” It stinks117 in here. His head turned. “That was a horn.”
Others had heard it too. The music and the laughter died at once. Dancers froze in place, listening. Even Ghost pricked118 up his ears. “Did you hear that?” Queen Selyse asked her knights.
“A warhorn, Your Grace,” said Ser Narbert.
The queen’s hand went fluttering to her throat. “Are we under attack?”
“No, Your Grace,” said Ulmer of the Kingswood. “It’s the watchers on the Wall, is all.”
One blast, thought Jon Snow. Rangers119 returning.
Then it came again. The sound seemed to fill the cellar.
“Two blasts,” said Mully.
Black brothers, northmen, free folk, Thenns, queen’s men, all of them fell quiet, listening. Five heartbeats passed. Ten. Twenty. Then Owen the Oaf tittered, and Jon Snow could breathe again. “Two blasts,” he announced. “Wildlings.” Val.
Tormund Giantsbane had come at last.
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1
wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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2
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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3
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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4
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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5
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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6
flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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7
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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8
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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9
blizzard
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| n.暴风雪 | |
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10
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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11
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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12
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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13
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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14
fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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15
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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16
err
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| vi.犯错误，出差错 | |
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17
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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18
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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19
swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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21
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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22
broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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23
tattooed
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| v.刺青，文身( tattoo的过去式和过去分词 )；连续有节奏地敲击；作连续有节奏的敲击 | |
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24
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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25
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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26
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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27
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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28
thong
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| n.皮带；皮鞭；v.装皮带 | |
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29
smite
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| v.重击；彻底击败；n.打；尝试；一点儿 | |
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30
hearths
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| 壁炉前的地板，炉床，壁炉边( hearth的名词复数 ) | |
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31
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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32
ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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33
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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34
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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35
walnuts
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| 胡桃（树）( walnut的名词复数 )； 胡桃木 | |
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36
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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37
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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38
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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39
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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40
parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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41
stewards
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| （轮船、飞机等的）乘务员( steward的名词复数 )； （俱乐部、旅馆、工会等的）管理员； （大型活动的）组织者； （私人家中的）管家 | |
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42
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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43
improvise
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| v.即兴创作；临时准备，临时凑成 | |
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44
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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45
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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46
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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47
woolens
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| 毛织品，毛料织物； 毛织品，羊毛织物，毛料衣服( woolen的名词复数 ) | |
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48
cloves
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| n.丁香（热带树木的干花，形似小钉子，用作调味品，尤用作甜食的香料）( clove的名词复数 )；蒜瓣(a garlic ~|a ~of garlic) | |
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49
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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50
guttering
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| n.用于建排水系统的材料；沟状切除术；开沟 | |
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51
crunched
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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52
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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53
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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54
shunned
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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56
vouchsafe
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| v.惠予，准许 | |
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57
skulls
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| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
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58
raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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59
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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60
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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61
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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62
rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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64
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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65
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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66
pacts
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| 条约( pact的名词复数 )； 协定； 公约 | |
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67
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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68
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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69
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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70
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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71
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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72
privy
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| adj.私用的；隐密的 | |
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73
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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74
chunks
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| 厚厚的一块( chunk的名词复数 )； （某物）相当大的数量或部分 | |
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75
tangles
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| （使）缠结， （使）乱作一团( tangle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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76
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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77
suffocated
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| （使某人）窒息而死( suffocate的过去式和过去分词 )； （将某人）闷死； 让人感觉闷热； 憋气 | |
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78
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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79
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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80
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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81
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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82
hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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83
warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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84
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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85
betoken
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| v.预示 | |
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86
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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87
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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88
adept
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| adj.老练的，精通的 | |
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89
brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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90
fawn
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| n.未满周岁的小鹿；v.巴结，奉承 | |
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91
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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92
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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93
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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94
wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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95
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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96
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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97
dwindle
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| v.逐渐变小（或减少） | |
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98
elk
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| n.麋鹿 | |
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99
acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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100
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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101
vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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102
sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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103
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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104
ravens
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| n.低质煤；渡鸦( raven的名词复数 ) | |
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105
talon
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| n.爪；（如爪般的）手指；爪状物 | |
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106
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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107
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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108
sagging
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| 下垂[沉，陷]，松垂，垂度 | |
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109
sprouted
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| v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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110
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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111
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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112
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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113
nubile
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| adj.结婚期的 | |
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114
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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115
rites
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| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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116
burrow
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| vt.挖掘(洞穴)；钻进；vi.挖洞；翻寻；n.地洞 | |
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117
stinks
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| v.散发出恶臭( stink的第三人称单数 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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118
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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119
rangers
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| 护林者( ranger的名词复数 )； 突击队员 | |
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