บท 34: The Thenn. Again #34
As Gale followed behind Threya, walking through the wildling encampment, he endured the taunts and jeers from the wildlings. They hurled sarcastic and insulting remarks in his direction, but Gale remained composed, refusing to let their mockery get to him.
The distance they kept from him was due, in no small part, to the intimidating presence of Tormund and Threya. While the wildlings jeered, Gale walked with his head held high, showing no sign of fear.
Amidst the crowd, one wildling was undeterred by Tormund and Threya's reputation. He was a burly, bald man with distinctive line-shaped scars on his face, unmistakably one of the Thenn. This fierce-looking warrior, Loboda, approached the group and directed a scowl at Tormund.
"I heard that crow you brought along killed one of my people," Loboda stated, his malevolent gaze now fixed on Gale. "Why is he still alive?" he demanded.
Tormund, leaning on his own reputation and the status of Gale as a guest of Mance Rayder, replied with a casual shrug, "Your man tried to slit Rayder guest's throat while he was sleeping, Loboda. He got what's coming to him."
Unmoved, Loboda retorted, "I don't care if he's the guest of the forest gods. If you're too much of a pussy to execute one crow, I'll do it on your behalf."
Tormund, still grinning, noticed Threya preparing to draw her weapon but gestured for her to stand down. She sighed and reluctantly obeyed his command.
Gale observed the silent exchange between Threya and Tormund, realizing that he couldn't rely on their support in this situation. He silently cursed the fickleness and unpredictability of Tormund's demeanor.
He was here to talk and get Rayder's cooperation, not to provoke conflict. However, Loboda was determined to escalate the situation, leaving Gale with no choice but to oblige the Thenn.
Loboda, his tone icy and menacing, closed the distance between himself and Gale. "I don't know what it is that you came here to seek, crow..." He began as he reached for the young man's shoulder. "But you will only find deth in--" He added, promptly cut off halfway through his sentence.
Gale swiftly sent a well-placed kick to Loboda's groin, causing the Thenn warrior to gasp and writhe in agony. Before Loboda could react, Gale seized his head with both hands and brutally slammed his forehead into Loboda's nose. Repeatedly, with a relentless force, he struck Loboda's face, leaving it a bloody, battered mess.
Gale released his grip on the Thenn's head, allowing Loboda to collapse to the ground, blood streaming from his broken nose. Gale surveyed the wildlings watching the confrontation, his expression still smeared with Loboda's blood.
"My friends and I have killed our fair share of wildlings," Gale declared, his tone unwavering. "If any of you wish to get some payback, now's your chance...."
With his foot planted firmly on Loboda's chest, Gale stood his ground, waiting for any takers among the onlooking wildlings.
The assembled wildlings began murmuring among themselves, their voices carrying a mix of shock, awe, and fear as they watched the brutal display.
Loboda, a Thenn chief known for his fearsome reputation, had been taken down by Gale, an outsider. The Thenns were notorious for their discipline and hardy nature due to living in one of the most inhospitable regions north of the Wall.
Loboda's defeat spoke volumes about Gale's capabilities. No one among the onlookers was willing to challenge him after witnessing such a violent, bloody victory.
Having assessed the situation and found no takers for his challenge, Gale lifted his foot from Loboda's chest and calmly wiped the blood from his face. He then turned to Tormund and Threya, his words laced with sarcasm.
"Thanks for nothing," Gale muttered sarcastically. "Let's keep moving," He gestured for them to lead the way, a mix of irritation and exasperation evident in his demeanor.
Tormund chuckled at Gale's comment and turned to continue walking, with Threya following suit as they led the way further into the wildling camp.
As they made their way deeper into the wildling encampment, Tormund couldn't help but sport an amused grin as he turned to Gale. "A show of power like that goes a long way with our people... and everyone hates the Thenn," he said with a lighthearted chuckle.
"Congratulations, you just earned the respect of the Free Folk," he added.
Gale, however, remained skeptical, looking at Tormund with a raised eyebrow. "Is this the part where you tell me you let that guy assault me for my own good?" Gale asked with a hint of sarcasm. "If it is, don't bother. I'm not buying it," he added, shaking his head.
Tormund laughed heartily in response. "I'm neither that shrewd nor thick-skinned enough to pretend otherwise," he replied. "I'm simply stating the obvious," he added.
Rolling his eyes at the cheerful wildling, Gale changed the subject. "How much farther until we reach Rayder?" he asked.
In response, Tormund gestured toward a conspicuously larger tent situated some distance away.
Within it, a man with a robust build, brown hair graying at the edges, and a somewhat ordinary appearance seemed to be engaged in a heated argument with another person. The man was clad in dark armor, his black fur cloak resembling the Night's Watch attire but marked by red patches.
"You're already looking at him," Tormund said with a grin. "Feast your eyes upon his royal grace, Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall, in all his glory," he added mockingly. "Don't be in a hurry to bend your knees, though. We don't do that here," Tormund continued.
Gale took in the sight of Mance Rayder, the man of interest in this negotiation, and paid close attention to the conversation unfolding before him.
Rayder's discussion partner appeared rather upset, his scowl evident as he voiced his objections.
"You can't expect us to hold hands with the Ice River clans and march with you, Rayder," the man declared, firmly shaking his head. "Our clans have been at war for as long as any of us remember—too much bad blood between us," he added.
Mance Rayder remained composed, unfazed by the man's resistance. "It doesn't matter how much bad blood is between your clans. The White Walkers will spill your blood and guts all the same and turn you into walking corpses-- each and every one of you," he stated matter-of-factly.
"The way I see it, You can either set your differences aside or perish together with your stubbornness," he added with a note of finality.
The man inside the tent was clearly frustrated and vented his anger by slamming the table with his palms. He had wanted to continue the argument, but when he noticed Gale and the others entering the tent, he wisely chose to bite back his words.
"You're going to have to choose eventually. It's either us or the Ice River clans... I'll leave you to reconsider," he stated with a hint of resignation before exiting the tent, passing Gale and the others without another glance.
Tormund, with a chuckle, stepped into the tent. "The Hornfoots still giving you trouble?" he asked.
Mance Rayder shook his head. "Bastards' stubborn as goats with heads harder than the soles of their feet," he replied, acknowledging the difficulty of the situation. His gaze then turned to Gale. "And who's this you brought to me?" he inquired.
Tormund, grinning, responded, "What's it look like? A young crow right out of the nest. Get this, the lad has the horn of whatever you sent Threya to find, and he wants to use it to talk you into working with the Night's Watch," he added with a hearty laugh.
Tormund's laughter eventually faded, and he noticed the unusually serious expression on Mance Rayder's face. The room fell into silence, and it was Rayder who eventually spoke.
"Are you here to speak on behalf of Lord Commander Mormont?" Rayder inquired, his tone devoid of humor.
Gale shook his head. "The Lord Commander didn't specifically ask me to come here and negotiate with you and your people, if that's what you're asking," he calmly replied. "The first ranger, Qhorin Halfhand, and myself made the decision once we learned how dangerous the Night King and his legion of undead were," he explained.
Rayder's gaze sharpened at these words. "What makes you qualified to stand before me and negotiate terms then, boy?" Rayder asked with a cold edge in his voice.
Gale shrugged. "Well, I have the Horn of Winter for one," he said. "I also happen to know the only way to kill a White Walker. I faced and killed one not too long ago," he added. "That should count for something, no?" he asked, with a hint of confidence in his voice.
...
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