Bab 493: Chapter 494: King Meets King
Amidst the vast expanse of snow and wind, thousands of campfires flickered weakly beyond the Wall. Their faint light seemed powerless against the overwhelming cold and darkness.
Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall, sat in a basket swaying precariously as he was hoisted up the Wall.
"Lord Denys Mallister," Mance brushed the snow off his shoulders and smiled. "I didn't expect you to be the one welcoming me."
"How are you sure I'm here to welcome you and not to kill you?" Ser Denys Mallister glared at his former subordinate, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.
"Taking my head back won't help you explain things to your king," Mance said with a grin, stepping forward and even giving Denys a hug.
Denys roughly shoved him away.
"Don't think we can just laugh and forgive everything. The Night's Watch never forgets a traitor. Mark my words—one day, I'll cut off your head!"
"I'll be waiting."
Ser Denys snorted coldly and led the King Beyond the Wall down from the Wall and into Castle Black.
As they passed, the Night's Watch brothers eyed the wildling king with suspicion. Mance Rayder, however, ignored their gazes, strolling casually through the fortress as if revisiting an old haunt.
At the door of the library, Ser Denys stopped and said, "Go in. His Majesty is waiting for you inside."
Mance nodded his thanks and pushed the door open.
The room smelled of dust and decaying paper. Tall wooden bookshelves stretched up into the darkness, filled with leather-bound books and boxes of ancient scrolls.
Navigating the narrow aisles, Mance eventually came upon a young man seated at a desk set into an alcove in the stone wall.
"Samwell Caesar."
"Mance Rayder."
Mance regarded the face before him, one from his past, and sighed, "You've changed completely in the past five years. Now, you truly look like a king."
Samwell smiled.
"And you, my friend, still don't look anything like one."
Mance burst into hearty laughter.
Indeed, he didn't resemble a king in any way—no crown adorned his head, no gold rings circled his arms, and no chains hung around his neck. He wore a woolen sweater and leather jacket, his only notable accessory a tattered black cloak patched with faded red silk.
"I've never worn a crown or sat on a cursed throne," Mance said calmly. "I come from the humblest of origins. No septon anointed me with sacred oils. I have no castle, and my queen wears furs and amber, not silk and jewels.
I am my own warrior, my own fool, and my own bard. Any King Beyond the Wall earns their title not by bloodline but by strength. The free folk don't care about surnames or birth order. They follow power.
When I left the Shadow Tower, five men clamored to be King Beyond the Wall. Tormund was one, and Magnar was another. Now, they both serve me. The other three resisted, so I killed them.
And then, I became King Beyond the Wall."
"But now you've come south of the Wall," Samwell noted. "Here, there can only be one king."
"That's why I insisted on meeting you personally." Mance stepped closer, sat at the table, and poured himself a cup of wine. He downed it in one gulp and praised, "Good wine!" before slamming the cup onto the table.
"Samwell, do you know why I deserted the Night's Watch?"
Sam shook his head.
Mance stood, unclasped his cloak, and spread it across the table.
"For this."
"A cloak?"
"A black Night's Watch cloak," Mance explained. "Once, during a patrol, we hunted and skinned a deer. The smell of blood attracted a shadowcat. After a fierce fight, we drove it away, but my cloak was shredded, and the beast tore up my arm and back.
My brothers feared I wouldn't make it back to the castle, so they carried me to a wildling village. A healer there saved my life and patched my cloak with red silk.
You should understand what silk means to a wildling woman. I don't even know where she got such a treasure, but she gave her most prized possession to me.
Unfortunately, I was a sworn brother of the Night's Watch, bound never to marry or father children.
When I returned to the Wall, they gave me a brand-new black cloak—no wear, no tears, and no red silk.
The Night's Watch must wear black.
But I wanted to keep my old cloak.
Ser Denys Mallister rebuked me harshly and threatened to burn it.
So, I left.
I went to a place where desire isn't a sin, where people can choose the color of their cloaks."
"A touching story," Samwell commented. "But south of the Wall, people can kiss the ones they love and choose their cloak colors too."
"They still have to kneel," Mance replied. "Isn't that what you want us to do? Kneel to you?"
"Yes," Samwell said plainly.
Mance shook his head firmly.
"Caesar, we free folk will never kneel to anyone."
"Even I don't like people kneeling to me," Samwell said earnestly. "But that's the rule south of the Wall. Your wildlings—undisciplined, unyielding, unwilling to kneel, pay taxes, or follow laws—take whatever they want.
If I let you do as you please south of the Wall, how can I answer to the Seven Kingdoms?"
"Your laws don't suit us," Mance argued. "If we need laws, we'll make our own. And I'll ensure my people don't trouble yours."
"Can you really control hundred of thousands of wildlings?" Samwell challenged.
"If I can lead them south to the Wall, I can ensure they behave."
"Don't overestimate yourself, Mance Rayder," Samwell countered. "Even I can't make all the people of the Seven Kingdoms obey me. But with laws, I can punish those who break them.
What about you? If your people commit crimes, can I punish them?"
"Our customs differ. Some things you see as crimes…"
"I know," Samwell interrupted. "I've heard wildlings knock out the women they fancy and carry them off. Is that true?"
"It's our custom," Mance admitted. "Only those who can steal a bride are worthy of marriage."
"That won't work south of the Wall."
"I'll establish rules for them," Mance offered.
"I've already made rules for you," Samwell replied. "First, wildlings entering the Wall can become subjects of the Seven Kingdoms voluntarily."
"No problem," Mance agreed. "If any of them want to kneel, I won't stop them."
"Second, those unwilling to become my subjects must stay in designated areas and cannot leave."
Mance immediately protested.
"You can't restrict our freedom!"
"This is our land," Samwell said coldly. "If you won't follow our laws, kneel, or pay taxes, you'll stay where we tell you. And when winter ends, you'll go back north of the Wall."
"Where is the designated area?"
"Wolfwood," Samwell replied. "That's your designated area."
Mance knew Wolfwood—a forest in the northwest of the North near the Bay of Ice. It was vast but couldn't sustain tens of thousands of people.
Samwell was clearly forcing the wildlings to submit.
"And if we refuse?"
"Then stay north of the Wall. Don't step onto my land."
Tension filled the room as their gazes clashed, sparks flying in the air.
"Caesar, did the Night's Watch forget to remind you?" Mance said, "If you don't let us enter the Wall..."
"You'll blow the Horn of Winter and cause the Wall to collapse?" Samwell interjected.
"If it comes to that," Mance said coldly, "we won't hesitate."
Samwell smiled faintly, unbothered by the threat.
Mance frowned, sensing the young king's icy determination.
"You won't kill me, will you? Before coming here, I told my queen, Dalla, that if I don't return by dawn, she must blow the Horn of Winter herself."
"You think that'll stop me?"
Mance frowned even more tightly. He could see the cold murderous intent in the eyes of the king in front of him, which he found incomprehensible.
But the next moment, he heard an incomprehensible curse coming out of Caesar's mouth.
"Caesar!" Mance cried, leaping up, sword drawn. But what he saw next froze him in shock.
The light in the room dimmed instantly, and the entire space seemed to be shaking.
"Caesar! You--" Mance thought that the other party was really going to attack him, so he jumped up immediately, drew the long sword at his waist, and took a defensive posture.
He had heard of the legendary king's horrific battles and was extremely frightened, but he would never sit back and die.
"Don't be nervous, my friend." The king's voice came again, but it sounded a little strange.
The fading light gradually brightened, and Mance Rayder was finally able to see again.
But what he saw frightened the King beyond the Wall greatly.
Because, standing before him was another Mance Rayder!
"You, you... how... Sorcery!" Looking at himself who looked exactly like him, Mance couldn't keep calm at all, and cold sweat oozed from his forehead.
Yes, Sorcery." Samwell smiled, his Adam's apple moving slightly, and he actually spoke the voice of Mance Rayder.
"What do you think will happen when I, as you, return to your camp? Will your queen still blow the horn?"
Mance's face twisted, and he finally yielded.
"You win. I accept your terms."
But Samwell shook his head.
"Your actions have lost my trust. I'll need to retrieve the Horn of Winter myself. It's too dangerous to leave it at the hands of you wildlings."
Hearing this, Mance's face suddenly changed.
He consider himself as a decisive person, and he immediately pounced on the other "self" in front of him.
But he obviously underestimated the gap in strength between himself and his opponent.
Samwell raised his hand slightly and grasped the tip of Mance's sword, then twisted it casually, and the entire steel sword turned into countless pieces.
"You'll stay in Castle Black for now," Samwell declared, easily restraining the opposition, "while I handle your people."
Outside, when Eddard Stark and the others saw "Mance Rayder" come out, they showed no signs of surprise, clearly having been informed in advance.
"Make arrangements, I'll leave the Wall."
"Your Majesty, do you need me to send someone with you?"
"No need. Even if the matter is exposed, those wildlings won't be able to keep me there."
"Understood."
Soon, Samwell exited the Wall via the basket.
Not long after heading north, a group of wildlings approached, and the leader shouted:
"Chief Mance, how did the talks with the Southerners go?"
"We have reached an agreement ." Samwell didn't want to say more to avoid giving anything away and quickly walked towards the camp, "We'll talk more after we get back."
After walking a few more miles, the group entered the camp.
This was a typical wildling camp, with campfires and latrines scattered haphazardly, children and goats wandering freely, no planning, no order, no defenses, just men, women, and animals everywhere.
Children squatting by the fire, old women in dog carts, cave dwellers with painted faces, warriors with shields adorned with claws, venomous snakes, and skulls, and giants, giants towering seven or eight times taller than ordinary people.
Upon seeing the King-Beyond-the-Wall, they all paused their busy activities and turned to pay their respects.
But no one knelt.
Samwell kept his eyes straight ahead and walked all the way to the tallest tent in the center.
Samwell walked straight ahead, making his way to the tall central tent.
Inside the tent, it was warm. There was a fire under the chimney, and by the fire sat a pregnant woman, with a beautiful blonde girl beside her.
Samwell immediately guessed that the pregnant woman was Mance Rayder's queen, Dalla, and the blonde girl was her sister, Val.
But his attention was entirely focused on a huge black horn in the tent.
"Mance, did the southern king agree to our terms?" Queen Dalla asked.
"Yes." Samwell casually nodded, but his body moved towards the Horn of Winter.
Just as he was about to touch the horn, he heard a low, mournful sound of the horn.
Wooooo—
Samwell was startled. By the time he realized the sound was coming from outside the tent, he heard Dalla exclaim:
"That's the horn of the scouts! Mance, enemies are approaching!"
(End of Chapter)
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone