Chapter 627: Chapter 627: The Unpredictability of Human Hearts
Without a doubt, the severed head of the Arctic wolf serves as a chilling warning from the White Walkers.
"I recall His Majesty once roamed the North long ago. Hadn't he witnessed this grand formation?"
It's only from a bird's-eye view that the entirety of this ominous formation of severed heads can be discerned. If Viserys had soared across the skies on dragonback, he should've beheld this gruesome display. Yet...
"Silence, never dare question the King!"
Someone's speculative murmur is sternly rebuked, causing a stir amongst the bustling command tent of the Night's Watch. The disarrayed crowd is embroiled in heated discussions about the severed head formation, especially the Arctic wolf's head at its center, a naked warning from the White Walkers, signaling that the Starks are destined to tread this homeward path.
Amidst the commotion, Eddard Stark remains composed, his grey eyes fixated on the map before him—a comprehensive map of the North. At its center lays a petite wooden bow he had just found, one that had been Lyanna's training bow during her younger days. His recollections are vivid.
...
"This formation is freshly made. Although the icy climate north of The Neck has somewhat delayed the decay of the corpses, they haven't been dead for long," the discussion in the tent continues.
"All our patrol squads have returned without much loss. They might have been adventurers from the Free Cities, slain by the White Walkers," voices the foremost cavalryman of the Night's Watch, 'Handless' Corin, the former deputy commander of Shadow Tower. Renowned for his strength, he could endure a winter beyond the Wall, returning unscathed. His name is notorious among the Free Folk, many of whom loathe him for the widows and orphans left in his wake.
Drawing from his extensive experience beyond the Wall, Corin deduces that these individuals haven't been dead for long, perhaps only a few days. Others speculate that they could have been sent from the cities across the Narrow Sea.
The harsh winter has also touched the cities across the Narrow Sea. Aside from a snow disaster, more than one snowfall has blanketed Braavos, which shares a similar latitude with The Neck and thus, comparable seasons. However, The Neck has never experienced such cold, almost akin to beyond the Wall.
Moreover, the folks from the Free Cities have shown keen interest in the wars and calamities unfolding in Westeros. With the North deserted, it becomes their ground for exploration.
Their courage is commendable, albeit misguided. The White Walkers have made armies of hundreds of thousands crumble in fear, fleeing in defeat. It's not mere fear that drives men away.
While the fate of these adventurers or mercenaries from the Free Cities isn't mourned, 'Handless' Corin's words send a chill down the spines of everyone present, including the vocal Lord Steward of the North, Rickard Karstark.
Now, Rickard Karstark holds the reins of the northern army, albeit under the nominal command of the Night's Watch Commander Mormont.
Any defiance would be deemed rebellion.
Come the morrow, His Majesty would descend from the skies on Black Dread, engulfing him in dragonflame and casting him into the seven hells.
Rickard knows this well. His authority stems from Viserys holding Robb Stark hostage in King's Landing.
While Robb remains the nominal Warden of the North, without his presence, Rickard serves merely as a steward. If His Majesty were to detain Robb indefinitely, then Rickard could remain the 'Warden of the North' for life.
This revelation sows discord between lord and sovereign in the North.
The taste of power has ensnared the Earl of Karhold, a sensation he has never before experienced.
Even the northern lords, who yesterday toasted to his ascension as the Lord Steward of the North, once flocked around Eddard Stark. Yet, Eddard Stark faced his vassals with a cold demeanor.
Stark. Karstark. In essence, Karstark shares Stark blood, their lineage diverged only when a branch was established.
The ancestors of Karstark were granted Karhold, eventually adopting the name Karstark.
If a Stark could sit as Warden, why not a Karstark?
Especially in these changing times, with all but the North, Dorne, and the Iron Islands seeing new wardens seated, even Littlefinger...
These thoughts fuel Rickard's ambitions further. As 'Handless' Corin speaks, he steals a glance at his once-loyal liege, now donned in black.
Unbeknownst to Eddard Stark, his once devoted retainer, upon tasting power, has changed. Would he still serve as the trusted guardian for his son?
Northerners are straightforward, lacking the cunning to navigate the realm of power, a truth reflected in their bloody history whenever they ventured south.
Now, Eddard Stark ponders 'Handless' Corin's words. If the deputy commander of Shadow Tower is to be believed, the White Walkers were here not long ago, a revelation that silences the tent.
"Weren't the White Walkers supposed to have retreated beyond the Wall?"
"Without dragons, how are we to battle the White Walkers?"
The clamor within the Night's Watch tent resumes, both southern nobles banished here and northern lords have grown dependent on dragonfire.
"Shall we seek His Majesty's aid?"
Their courage to face the White Walkers without dragons has waned. Only with dragons at the forefront, do they dare confront the fearsome foes.
"The White Walkers won't engage us in battle!"
Commander Mormont, standing amidst the crowd, raises his voice against the cacophony in the tent.
"Otherwise, they wouldn't have retreated, leaving behind this formation of severed heads to frighten us away."
His words command silence, for no one dares defy the Commander, whose authority is backed by the Iron Throne. Any defiance against Commander Mormont is a rebellion against the Iron Throne itself.
And they all remember the fate of the last rebel.
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