章 20: Chapter 19 DAVOS
A few days after the arrival of the Ibbenese, I received correspondence from my informants. Everything seems to be going well in the North, but there is troubling news: one of the wargs I sent with the Night's Watch brothers informs me that there is some suspicious activity north of the Wall. Several clans have gathered in a large contingent, but contrary to what was expected, they are not marching toward the Wall to attack. Instead, they are moving through the Haunted Forest toward Hardhome. Along with this, Maester Aemon secretly requested that my father monitor the movement with patrols, perhaps to investigate the reason behind this large migration.
Whether they are searching for something in the ruins or seeking an alliance with Skagos, it must be investigated. Under this pretense, I hope to make a journey beyond the Wall—perhaps just to explore the only place that tried to become a city after the Wall was built.
"Duncan, I think it's time to initiate the other plans, at least to lay the groundwork," I said while watching Mance train in the distance, crushing the guards in the process.
The conversation with the Ibbenese was undoubtedly fruitful. I managed to close a trade deal with Skat for some food and weapons in exchange for whale oil and other products from Ibben. Another interesting thing is that the old acquaintance who will take them to Ibben is a Tyroshi smuggler. He was also the one who helped them reach port after they were shipwrecked. When I asked why a smuggler, I learned that there is a marine current that goes directly from Skagos to Ibben, cutting the return trip in half. However, this current is little known by sailors, as taking it means not seeing land or any other sign for six weeks, so only a few smugglers and pirates use it on this side of the world.
I almost forgot to mention: this world doesn't have anything like compasses or astrolabes because the stars tend to change depending on the season. There are specific seasons for navigation when Galatea and the Great Blue rise in the sky, and there are other seasons when the stars seem to guide ships adrift. This is why trade between continents is expensive or very risky since travel is mostly done during the day, following the sun. As for navigation, Westeros relies on coastal navigation, while the people of Essos know the currents between continents, which they use for travel. For example, there are marine currents that can take you from Qarth to Lys without depending on the coast, although it is infested with opportunistic pirates. This is why many prefer to cross closer to Old Valyria to avoid them or travel by land. Another peculiar current appears between Westeros, the Summer Isles, and Naath, which seems to disappear and reappear every two or three years.
Since I had the idea of expanding the northern fleet, I have tried to create something similar to a compass. But without really knowing how far north we are or the true size of the land, I wouldn't risk giving my ships a compass and assuring them it will always point north. It is well known that even Columbus had problems with his compass on the first expedition. I KNOW I WILL ACHIEVE IT, but until that moment, I think it's necessary to find expert sailors for my plans.
This is why I am now walking through the streets of the port, searching for the man Skat recommended.
We entered a tavern near the coast where the few sailors were seeking refuge. Only Duncan and I, dressed in gray cloaks and without guards, though with weapons visible to deter thieves. At the back, we saw a group of sailors, though three stood out from the crowd. The first was a tall man playing with a dagger while watching everyone who approached. The second was a bronzed man with a blue beard and an extravagant hat, accompanied by two women. But the one who caught my attention the most was a young Westerosi, no older than me—about 13 or 14 years old—who looked uncomfortable and out of place among that crowd of foreigners.
We approached the table without any ceremony, though trying to be as non-threatening as possible.
"I'm looking for a friend of Skat. I've got business."
"Hahaha, a friend of the Bear, you say? Now that's rare. But if he's your friend, he's mine too," said the blue-bearded man, while with a gesture, the whole group dispersed, leaving just three people at the table.
"Let me introduce Malec and Davos, my trusted advisors."
"You're the smuggler I've heard of, I assume?" I said in broken Valyrian.
"Hahaha, you're not wrong, though I'd like to know what gave me away."
"This is a small port. If you were a merchant, you'd have gone to White Harbor. And if you were a private transport captain, you wouldn't come this far north; there's little return passage. Not to mention pirates or slavers—this isn't a good route."
"And if I were one, you wouldn't want to dock in the North, Lord, that's for sure. Quite dangerous people live here."
"Daniel Snow, a pleasure," I said as I settled at the table.
"Roro Uhoris, expert smuggler, my lord—a name I've earned with hard work."
"And tell me, Roro Uhoris, what brings you this far north?"
"Hahaha, gold, my lord! What else would bring me this far north?"
"Tell me, Lord, what brings you to this dirty sea tavern?"
"Business. You see, I have a group of people who need to make a journey north of the Wall—a simple expedition. But for some reasons, I don't want it known that we're sailing those waters."
"Haha, that's a risky transport you're asking for, my lord. There are rumors that the coasts of Skagos haven't been calm lately. So why would I risk taking someone I don't know to distant lands?"
"Let's just say I have a long-term, very lucrative job for you. If you serve me well, say, thousands of gold a year."
"Hahaha, now that's an offer that interests me. So I guess this is my test, it seems... 100 dragons for the trip, another 100 if you want us to wait until you finish your business and bring you back."
"50 dragons, and I'll make sure neither the watch nor the patrols bother you—or your current arms smuggling."
At that, Malec tensed as if ready to strike. Duncan also moved his hand closer to the sword in his lap.
"You seem pretty good at reading people, Lord, so let me try as well."
"You're a lord, based on your escort," he said, glancing at Duncan, "and an important one too, judging by your promises of safe passage. It's not that I don't trust you, but tell me, how exactly do you plan to keep the inspectors calm?"
"That's easy. The reason for going north of the Wall and our main business will be trading furs and jewels for food and wine. Of course, we'll be legitimate traders, and we'll also take care of the Night's Watch provisions, so I don't expect thorough inspections.
As for the other business…" I paused to look at him. " The guard doesn't need to know it.."
"If everything goes well, I might require your services again, including, you know, transporting wood with steel."
Roro´s Perspective
As the client left, I couldn't help but ponder his offer—and the client himself.
He called himself Snow, a northern bastard, and a noble one at that—undoubtedly a Stark by his features. And although I haven't heard of any Stark bastards recently, it's not uncommon for them to be hidden. This one, though, doesn't seem as despised by his father. A trade permit and a relationship with the Night's Watch? Definitely something of a reward, or perhaps a tactic to get him familiarized with the black brothers.… Whatever the case, it seems the bastard has larger aspirations than being a mere trader. He wants an army. Otherwise, I don't understand why, with business license, he'd seek out a small arms smuggler like me.
"Davos, Malec, what do you think?" I whispered.
"Captain, he and his escort are dangerous. Trained, no doubt. I don't think I could stand against either of them," Malec responded.
"On the other hand, they seemed sincere. I don't think they're part of the Watch. The young lord was serious about his business. I've been asking around, and apparently, the Ibbenese recommended they meet with you. And those guys have a sixth sense for people. I think they're trustworthy," Davos added.
"Hmmm, I felt the same, but I really don't sense that they are interested in maritime business. If we associate with them, I'll need to keep a closer eye."
"Accept the journey, but tell them we'll also be taking Skat and that we'll probably leave for Ibben before picking them up. Let's see how committed they are to our partnership before we set sail."
"So we're agreeing to take the bears (ibbenese) back to their home?" Malec asked.
"It seems they already know about the arms and trade with the wildlings, so we can't sell the merchandise. Maybe in Ibben, we can get a good price."
***
It seems Skat and his companions decided to delay their return home to accompany me beyond the Wall. So now we will travel along the coast to Karhold, where we will report supplies and notify them of the trade agreements. Maybe I can establish a long-term trade deal with Ibben. For now, the promised weapons and food will only be the first shipment.
We will depart in a week, just in time for the supply caravan and my escorts to arrive. So now our expedition consists of Lord Skat, his 10 companions, William Dustin, Jon Umber, Theo Wull, Jorha Mormont, Martyn Cassel, Mance, Harrion Karstark, Helman Tallhart, Duncan, and 50 armed men, with another 50 serving as escorts for the heirs—not to mention the original crew of the Cobblecat.
According to my raven correspondence with Arwen, when the heirs found out I was going beyond the Wall, some of those who had decided to stay behind, like Arnolf Karstark and Galbant Glover, asked for a ship to take them to Karhold, eager to join. However, Lord Manderly refused.
The Cobblecat is a modified Tyroshi merchant ship. From what I learned from Davos, much of the structure's weight has been adjusted.
During the journey, I became quite close with Davos. Although young, he already has that cautious and taciturn attitude described in the series. According to him, he's been sailing with Roro for about three years and became his right-hand man because he has, as he says, a knack for danger.
Talking with Davos was a rather intriguing experience. He's probably the most normal person I've encountered in this world. He was born in Flea Bottom and became a smuggler because it was that or starve to death. But I don't see any desire in him to just be that. He simply took advantage of the option presented to him and seized it—a man taking life one day at a time, trying to survive and find a better life.
"You know, Davos, maybe it's because you're from Westeros among all these foreigners, but I think you're trustworthy. If you don't betray me, I promise that one day you'll be a lord under my command."
"Haha, Daniel, if one day you make me a lord, I will swear my service and life to you without hesitation."
***
We sailed for about three days along the coast, and I must say, Roro's skills in navigation are undeniable. Our first stop was Karhold—or rather, the new military port on its shores—where we would pick up resources to be delivered to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, as well as the promised supplies for Skat.
My initial idea was to load the resources and sail to Eastwatch on the same day. However, upon learning that we were heading beyond the Wall, both Lord Umber and Lord Karstark assigned a patrol to accompany us, more out of fear of a Skagosi raid than a confrontation with the wildlings. So now, along with my galley, two dromons, each with 250 men including rowers, sailors, and armed men, moved in formation.
It was rather difficult to explain to Roro why the patrols were escorting us, but I suppose the fact that most of my companions are Northerners and have guards made him think it might just be an excursion of young lords. The rest of the sailors thought the same, as to them, a noble bastard raised in a castle and a nobleman are no different—both are lords doing lordly things.
Eastwatch-by-the-Sea is a truly impressive castle, though quite gloomy. Being located right under the Wall, it receives barely any sunlight for most of the year, making it damp. Fortunately, I only spent a few hours there while the commander of Eastwatch checked the Cobblecat's permits and cargo. As for the Karstark patrol that accompanied us, they didn't need to be inspected since they were used to their patrols, and besides, having extra patrols is always good… less work, I think.
Hardhome is a place considered cursed. The only shelter there is found in the caves. The men of the Night's Watch who pass by on their galleys call them the "Caves of Lamentations."
It is located in a sheltered bay and has a natural harbor with enough depth to accommodate any ship, no matter how large. There is an abundance of wood and stone in its surroundings. The water is teeming with fish, and there are colonies of seals and sea lions nearby.
As we approached Hardhome, according to old patrol exploration maps, there is still an old stone port in the ruins where we could disembark to explore. However, before entering the peninsula of the ancient city, we saw near the coast a group of armed people signaling to us, while a few were firing flaming arrows just a few meters away from us.
"Wildlings," Jon Umber said
"What do you think they want?" asked a Davos standing beside me. Apparently, Malec and Roro couldn't stand the cold, so they decided to delegate command to Davos while they drank themselves silly in the captain's cabin.
"Of course, they want to sink us, those bastards," Jon replied.
"I don't think so, my lord. Their arrows aren't aimed at the ships, but in front of them, as if they were warning us," said Davos.
"It seems like they're giving us warning signals, though I don't know why. Maybe they don't want us to approach the coast."
Just at that moment, an eagle circled above us several times before perching on the ship's railing. Its eyes were white, and it stared at each of us, as if searching for something.
"Lord Stark," said Theo Wull, stepping a little closer to me.
"I noticed it too, Theo," I replied as I approached the eagle. "We haven't come to conquer or seek a fight, and if we've understood you well, we promise not to approach the port any further."
(Eagle screech)
"Very well, ask your leader if we can disembark under the guest right. I, Eddard of House Stark, promise we only wish to talk and understand why we cannot pass to the ancient city."
(Eagle screech)
With that, the eagle flew away.
As I watched the eagle soar, I heard a cough behind me. When I turned, I saw Davos kneeling, giving me a somewhat strange look.
"So, a Snow?" he asked.
At that moment, I cursed inwardly.
"Haha, it seems the cat's out of the bag. Let me introduce myself again, my friend. I am Eddard Stark, son of Lord Richard Stark, Paramount of the North."
"Haha, all those years I called the captain 'the Blind Bastard,' I thought it was a joke, but now I see he's really a bit blind. Had he known you were a Lord, he would've charged you double for the trip. Hmm, and I must say, many things make sense now," said Davos, muttering under his breath.
"I apologize for the deception, but discretion was necessary," I replied.
"And I greatly appreciate your discretion, my Lord. Besides, knowing you're a Stark reassures me; at least I know your promises aren't in vain."
"By the way, Davos, I trust this stays between us. There are some matters best not shared with your captain."
"You know, Lord Stark, when we're kids, they tell us about honor among thieves, loyalty to the ship's captain, and all that. But I know it doesn't exist. Roro, though he's a good captain, I know he'd sell us all for a profit if the time came."
I stayed silent as I watched young Davos ruffle his hair, looking a little nervous.
"When I lived in Flea Bottom, there was a septa who sometimes told us stories and gave us food. She was a noble, maybe from a fallen house or something like that. When I asked her, she taught me a very important lesson, something that even went against what they normally tell smallfolk like us."
"How intriguing, a septa giving good advice," said Dustin.
"Two excellent pieces of advice, really, my Lord. She told me that people aren't born with a fixed destiny, but they are born with a duty. Do what you must and respect your duty. If you're a septa, act like a septa and pray every day. If you're a thief, don't harm those who have nothing left. If you're a soldier, fight and obey orders without question. If you're an assassin, give a quick and merciful death. If you're a spy, never betray your lord. And if you're a sailor, go down with your ship."
At that moment, everyone on the ship was very quiet.
"She undoubtedly spoke of the opportunities a child of our condition could have... But she also said that duty isn't fixed; it can change if your life changes. If you become a knight, follow your code of honor. If you're a lord, be righteous, keep your word and your oaths. And if you're a king, act as such: unattainable, dignified, but look after your people, for they are the most valuable thing in the realm. Do what you must, and act as expected, according to who you are."
Before he could continue, we saw an archer shoot an arrow into the distance. Then, a canoe moved into the sea, only to stop halfway between the shore and us, a few meters away from where the arrow had landed.
"Alright, Davos, lower a boat. It seems we'll meet on neutral ground. Helmant, you're the best shot among us; fire an arrow so they can see our range," I said, as I approached and whispered, "Don't draw the bow fully."
After the arrow was launched, we approached the landing canoe. There were two sailors, Jon Umber, Theo Wull, Duncan, Davos, and me.
As the half-giants rowed, Davos and I simply watched the waves.
"Now I'm curious about the septa's second lesson," I said, returning to the old topic.
"Consequences, Lord Stark. No matter what your role or duty is, you must accept the consequences. If your harvest dies due to neglect and you can't pay your taxes, accept the hunger. If you flee the battle, accept the wood and the steel. If you're a noble and betray your lord, accept the destruction of your house and the death of your descendants."
"You know, Davos, I could name you a Lord right now, but I'd have to cut you off a finger for smuggling," I said with a bit of humor.
"Haha, my Lord, I'd gladly give three of them if it made me a Lord, and believe me, I'd be the most loyal Lord in the world."
"What happened to that septa? Does she still live in Flea Bottom?" I asked.
"She died. They hanged her after torturing her," Davos said.
"..."
"Treason, my Lord, heresy, and conspiracy. She was the closest thing to a mother I ever had."
"I'm sorry."
"I am too, every day. But she knew, she was prepared. You know, Eddard, they condemned her for a simple thing: consequences."
I looked at him a bit puzzled, searching for an explanation.
"She also used to say, 'If you're a king and the people starve, accept the end of your reign. For if the farmer tends the fields, the soldier fights, and the noble honors his oath, and yet the people suffer, the king is to blame.'"
....
....
"Davos, regarding my identity..."
"I'm a smuggler, Snow. We lie and betray for the highest bidder, and there's no better bidder in Westeros than a Stark."
"Haha, maybe a Lannister," Jon said, who had been listening in silence until now.
"I don't know any Lannister wanting me in their service, Jon."
***
In the opposing barge stood a rather tall man with red hair and a large, ragged beard, dressed in bear furs. Next to him were a woman and a man, both similarly dressed in furs, all unarmed.
"I am Dormunt the Red, leader of the Gate Clan, killer of cannibals, breaker of the caves of Hardhome."
"And this is Eddard Stark, uh... the White Wolf," said a somewhat uncomfortable Davos, unsure if he should invent more titles.
"For someone from so far north of the Wall, you care too much about titles," I said, breaking the silence between introductions.
"Titles have power, young one. The only reason I'm talking to you is because your name is Stark," the red-haired giant said.
"I offer bread and salt as tradition dictates, Stark. No harm will come to your men while you are on my lands."
"And I swear we will do no harm to yours."
"Now tell me, Stark, what brings you so far north of the Wall?"
"Curiosity, mainly, Chief Dormunt. Word has reached us of a gathering of free folk heading toward these lands, and with the Skagosi so restless, their motives are cause for concern."
"And as for my reasons for entering the ruins, I'll say it's simply my fondness for exploring ancient places."
"You've chosen a bad place to explore, young wolf. That place is cursed and forbidden, as are those ruins. As for the news you seek, I've heard nothing of it."
"Seems like just rumors then, though it's good to confirm. But tell me, Chief, what makes this place cursed?"
"It's an old story my people have passed down for 700 years. The details have been lost, but one thing remains: a commandment—don't let anyone enter the ruins, not a single stone should leave that place. If it does, the plague will sweep this land, and no fire will be enough to burn away the evil that will be unleashed."
At that moment, a seagull circled above us before landing on the man's shoulder.
"Sink," the man said immediately, as he sat down and his eyes rolled back, turning white.
"Do you really think there's a plague in these lands, Ned?" asked Jon Umber while we waited for the Warg to wake up.
"Starks have wolves again, my friend, and you just saw a man control a bird—two of the legends they told you have just taken form before your eyes. I don't know if it's a story or a legend, but I'm not willing to take that risk," said Theo Wull.
"..."Jon.
"..."Davos.
"Chief, an army is approaching a few miles from the camp, hundreds of them. I couldn't see more, but they have wargs escorting them."
"Looks like you found the army you were looking for, young one. I'd invite you a to eat, but it seems you've arrived at a bad time."
"Problems, I take it?"
"There are only two kinds of problems here, Lord Stark: hunger and war, and I've already eaten today, haha."
"Maybe they're not here for you. Maybe they're just passing through," said Davos.
"Unfortunately, here in the North, there is no surrender, only annihilation. If they're here for us, they'll attack without mercy. And if they're just passing through, they'll still come for food and women."
"Miler," I said to one of my accompanying sailors.
"Right away, Lord Stark," he said, as he sounded the horn twice.
"At the risk of offending you, Chief Dormunt, I can't simply walk away while my first friend on this side of the Wall and his clan perish."
Following the sound of the horn, the ship came alive. As it neared the shore, my 50 personal soldiers began disembarking in groups.
"Davos, take the boat with Jon and board the ship again. Head out in search of the Karstark and Umber patrols, ask them for support in the fight. If they refuse, at least ask for help evacuating the women and children. Winterfell will take responsibility for them," I said, as I leaped onto Chief Dormunt's boat.
"Killing wildlings and then a dinner sounds like an excellent plan. I don't think my men will refuse," said Jon Umber.
"Thank you, Jon. If you see the heirs, explain the situation to them. Tell them it's not necessary to risk themselves in this fight, but that I, Eddard, would appreciate the reinforcement of their escorts."
"Haha, looks like I'll be inviting him to a fight before a feast, YOUNG WOLF," laughed Chief Dormunt as we approached the coast.
Diary of Brandon Stark, the Builder
My strength is quickly fading. I only wanted to return home, see my grandchildren, and wait for rest, but like a curse, my life is never mine to plan. And now, here I am, a bit older, still chasing whispers. A request arrived from the south, from the Gardener lands; it seems that the newlywed Uthor of Hightower wants help to build his house. Some say it's vanity, as he's already built four towers, each taller than the last, but none satisfy the great lord. However, in his letter, he points to something more, something for which he truly needs help.
The journey was swift. I was received by Uthor with feasts and banquets, but in his eyes, there was something I recognized: fear, a discomfort that begged for help.
According to the young king, everything began when he sought to create a castle worthy and impregnable, so he followed the myths of a black stone fortress on these coasts, a fortress that only appears at certain times, when the mist forms a path. So, he waited for two years, just for the right moment to sail to the island where we now found ourselves. He found what he was seeking: a place that cannot be taken or besieged, an ancient and labyrinthine fortress, entirely made of black stone. But he also found something more, something dark, something he should have never seen, something no one should ever find.
I understood then: it wasn't vanity or neglect that drove him to build a taller tower, it was necessity.
After the banquet, I followed the young king as we walked through the fortress, until we entered a passage lit by torches. I do not know how many turns we made, how many dead ends we avoided, but we seemed to descend almost to the center of the island.
The walls, once dry and porous black basalt stone, now turned oily, damp, and polished. But the change wasn't abrupt; it was as if the oil had slowly begun to moisten the walls. There, at the center of it all, in a large, undecorated room, suspended on a bronze pedestal, was a piece of rock. It was black, so black that it seemed to swallow the light of our torches. To me, who fought in the Long Night, it was uncomfortable to look at, like a dark hole in which a monster lurks.
We didn't stay there long. Though I wanted to study the runes, Uthor seemed like he would lose his mind if we stayed.
He told me that when he arrived at this castle, right in the center, at the top of a little tower, a fire burned faintly, white in color. Below lay the labyrinth, and almost as if its opposite, in the depths, was that black stone. But the fire went out. It happened by mistake, without knowing that no matter what fire burns, it is consumed slowly. It lasts longer the higher it goes, but it's never enough.
Gathering himself, he told me: that he wanted to build a tower taller than the Wall, taller than anything, so that everyone could see it, with enough fire to fight the damp.
_________________________
New Chapter
Thank you for the support, and to those who believed I would return, welcome back to my story! To new readers, welcome as well. I apologize if this chapter feels a bit slow or fragmented—the purpose of this chapter is to develop Davos. These conversations will have a bigger impact on the story than you might think, as well as on the characters. This chapter wasn't originally planned this way, haha.
In fact, the battle was supposed to take up most of the chapter. The next chapter will have some changes to the canon, with some characters outside of their time period, but I will borrow them to be the same age as Ned. Leave your theories! Whoever guesses right will win a symbolic prize, maybe the chance to ask something about the plot or choose a character.
I'm feeling really inspired to write this fic, so there might be an extra chapter this week. Lastly, I've also created a Ko-fi account if anyone would like to buy me a coffee—five coffees will get you an extra chapter, xD.
https://ko-fi.com/d_vera
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