“Go on, Jon. Say what you would say.”  “My father once told me that some men are not worth having,” Jon finished. “A bannerman who is brutal¹ or unjust dishonors his liege lord as well as himself.”  “Craster is his own man. He has sworn us no vows². Nor is he subject to our laws. Your heart is noble, Jon, but learn a lesson here. We cannot set the world to rights. That is not our purpose. The Night’s Watch has other wars to fight.”  Other wars. Yes. I must remember. “Jarman Buckwell said I might have need of my sword soon.”  “Did he?” Mormont did not seem pleased. “Craster said much and more last night, and confirmed enough of my fears to condemn³ me to a sleepless⁴ night on his floor. Mance Rayder is gathering⁵ his people together in the Frostfangs. That’s why the villages are empty. It is the same tale that Ser Denys Mallister had from the wildling his men captured in the Gorge⁶, but Craster has added the where, and that makes all the difference.”  “Is he making a city, or an army?”  “Now, that is the question. How many wildlings are there? How many men of fighting age? No one knows with certainty. The Frostfangs are cruel, inhospitable, a wilderness⁷ of stone and ice. They will not long sustain any great number of people. I can see only one purpose in this gathering. Mance Rayder means to strike south, into the Seven Kingdoms.”  “Wildlings have invaded the realm before.” Jon had heard the tales from Old Nan and Maester Luwin both, back at Winterfell. “Raymun Redbeard led them south in the time of my grandfather’s grandfather, and before him there was a king named Bael the Bard⁸.”  “Aye, and long before them came the Horned Lord and the brother kings Gendel and Gorne, and in ancient days Joramun, who blew the Horn of Winter and woke giants from the earth. Each man of them broke his strength on the Wall, or was broken by the power of Winterfell on the far side... but the Night’s Watch is only a shadow of what we were, and who

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