Chapter 46 Chapter 46: Samwell

The most dangerous part of the voyage is the tail.As had been warned in Tyrosh, Redwyne Strait was crowded with longships, and the main fleet of the Arbor was still far away on the other side of Westeros.The Iron Islanders sacked Lyonport and took Vinetown and Starfish Harbor as their own, using them as lairs to rob ships heading for Oldtown. Three times the men on the crow's nest observed the longship.Twice it was far behind the ships, and the Cinnamon Wind quickly lost them, and a third appeared at sunset, trying to block the way to Whispering Cove.They watched her oars rise and fall, churning the brassy water to white.Koja Mo sent the archers up to the forecastle, and their great golden heartwood bows shot farther and more accurately than Dorn's yewwood bows, and she did not order the arrows to be released until the longship was within two hundred yards.Sam shot with them, and this time he felt his arrow hit the boat.A salvo was enough, and the longship turned south for more tame prey.

When entering Whispering Cove, the dark blue dusk had already fallen.Gilly stood beside the figurehead with the baby in her arms, gazing at the castle on the cliff. "That's Three Towers," Sam told her, "the seat of House Cotoin." The castle was carved among the night stars, and the fires flickered in the windows.Looking at this splendor and splendor, he felt sad that their voyage was coming to an end. "It's so high," said Gilly. "Let's talk about it after you see the towering tower." Dana's baby started crying.Gilly quickly pulled off her blouse and stuffed her nipples to the baby.Gilly smiled and stroked his brown hair as the baby nursed.She liked the boy as much as the one on the Wall, Sam realized.He hoped the gods would be kind to both boys.

The ironborn even dived into the historically peaceful waters of the Cove of Whispers.The next morning, as the Cinnamon Wind continued toward Oldtown, the ships began to hit floating corpses flowing downstream.Some of the corpses had crows on board, and when the swan boats stirred the bloated and misshapen "boats," they flew into the air, clamoring and protesting.There are scorched fields and burnt villages on the shore, and the shallows and sandbars are dotted with broken ships, most of which are merchant ships and fishing boats, occasionally abandoned longships, and even the wreckage of two galleons.One was burnt above the waterline, and the other had a large hole in the side of its hull.

"There was a war here," Chong said, "not so long ago." "Who would be so crazy to stick their hands so close to Old Town?" Chong pointed to a long boat that was half sunk in the shallows.The wreckage of a flag hung from the stern, tattered and stained with smoke.There was a mark on it that Sam had never seen before: two crows propping up a black iron crown, and below it was a red eye with black pupils. "Whose banner is that?" asked Sam.Chong shrugged. The next day was cold and foggy, and the Cinnamon Wind quietly passed another looted fishing village.A galley sailed out of the mist and rowed slowly towards them.Her prow resembles a slender girl, covered in leaves, wielding a spear, and the name "Huntress" is engraved on the hull.A moment later, two smaller rowboats appeared on either side of her, like a pair of greyhounds at their master's heels.To Sam's relief, King Tommen's stag and lion banner flew from the ship, in addition to the stepped white tower banner of House Hightower in Oldtown with its beacon tower.

The captain of the Huntress was tall, with a smoky gray cloak trimmed with flaming red satin.He drew his ships alongside the Cinnamon Wind, drew in his oars, and called for aboard.With his crossbowmen facing Koja Mo's archers across the narrow water, he came with six knights, nodded to Kuhulu Mo, and asked to see the cargo hold.The father and daughter agreed after discussing for a while. "I beg your pardon," said the captain, when he had finished his inspection, "it makes me sad that decent people have to put up with a disrespectful treatment, but we'll keep the Iron Islanders out of Oldtown. It was only two weeks ago, Those bastards captured a Tyroshi merchant ship in the straits, killed the crew, put on the crew's clothes, and painted their beards with the dyes they found. Once they sneak into the city, they plan to set fire to the docks, while we are busy Earn the city gate from the inside while fighting the fire. This plan almost succeeded, but fortunately the Lady of the Tower was hit. Her oarsman had a Tyroshi wife. He saw so many green beards and purple beards, so he used Tyroshi Shouting compliments, but no one on the other side knows how to answer."

Sam was stunned. "They want to loot Old Town?" The captain of the Huntress gave him a curious look. "These are not simple marauders. The ironmen are brigands by nature, and love to strike suddenly from the sea, steal money and women and sail back far away, a longship or two at a time, never more than half a dozen. Yet This time is different, now hundreds of ships are harassing us, they sailed from the reefs around the Shield Islands and Arbor Island, they captured Stone Crab Cay, Isle of Pigs, Mermaid House, and even Horseshoe Rock and Wild Seed Bay A base has been established. We cannot deal with them without Lord Redwyne's fleet."

"What is Lord Hightower doing?" blurted Sam. "My father used to say he was as rich as the Lannisters, and could raise three times as many warriors as any lord in Highgarden." "With all the money in Oldtown, more could be recruited," said the captain, "but not until all the men learn to walk on water." "Shentian Tower must take action." "Of course. Lord Layton is locked up with the 'mad girl' on the top of the tower to study the magic book. Maybe he can recruit an army from the bottom of the abyss. Baelor is building ships, Gunthor is in charge of the port, Garth is training recruits, Humphrey goes to Rhys in search of a mercenary fleet. If he can get a decent fleet from his whore sister, Linice, we can fight back. Teach the Ironborn. Until then, the best we can do is hold our ground and wait for King's Landing The bitch queen unleashes the leash that holds Lord Paxter."

Sam was appalled by both the sharp tone of the captain's last words and what he confided.Without Oldtown and the Arbor, the country would fall apart, falling apart, he thought, watching the Huntress and her sister ships go. He began to wonder if Horn Hill was really safe.It was true that House Tully's domain lay in the wooded hills inland, a hundred leagues northeast of Oldtown, far from the coast.Even if his lord father went on an expedition to the Three Rivers Valley and the castle was weakly defended, the family should not be attacked by the ironmen and longships.But Young Wolf no doubt thought Winterfell was safe, too, until Theon the chameleon climbed the walls one night.It was hard for Sam to imagine that he took Gilly and the baby on such a long journey to save them from harm, only to abandon them in the battlefield.

For the rest of the voyage he hesitated, not knowing what to do.Perhaps Gilly should have stayed with him in Oldtown, he thought, with walls far greater and more impenetrable than his father's, and with thousands of guards, Lord Randyll might have left few when he was called to Highgarden. Personally in Horn Hill.If so, he would have to try to hide her; the Citadel did not allow apprentices to have wives or lovers, at least not openly.But if I'm with Gilly for a long time, how can I have the determination to leave her?He must leave her, or be a deserter.I swear, Sam reminded himself, how does it help Gilly that being a deserter means losing your head?

He considered begging Koja and her father to take the wildling girl to their Summer Isles.However, this path also has dangers.After the Cinnamon Wind left Oldtown, it had to cross Redwyne Sound again, perhaps not so lucky this time.What if the wind dies and the Summer Islanders are stranded on a windless sea?If the stories he had heard were true, Gilly would have been taken as a slave laborer or a salt concubine, and the baby might have been thrown overboard for getting in the way. Only Horn Hill, Sam finally decided, and as soon as I got to Oldtown I'd hire a car and some horses and take her there myself.He could drop by to see the castle and its defenses, and if what he saw or heard made him doubt anything, he would take Gilly back to Oldtown at once.

They arrived in Oldtown on a cold, damp morning, so thick with fog that only the beacon fires on the towering towers could be seen.A chain stretched across the harbour, with a score of shabby hulks attached to it, and behind them a row of warships, and beside them three galleons and Lord Hightower's towering flagship, the quadreme Oldtown Glory .Here the Cinnamon Wind was inspected once more, and Lord Layton's son, Gunthor, boarded the ship himself.He is clad in a silver robe and gray enamelled scales.Sir Gunthor had studied in the Academy for several years and could speak Summer Islands, so he and Kuhuru Mo went to the captain's cabin to talk privately. Sam uses this time to explain his plan to Gilly. "Go to the Citadel first, and deliver Jon's letter, telling them of Maester Aemon's death. I think the magi will send a cart to bring his body. Then I will prepare horses and trailers, and take you to my mother's side in Horn Hill. .I'll try to get back as soon as possible, but maybe tomorrow." "Tomorrow," she repeated, before giving him a kiss and wishing him luck. Gunthor finally came out, and he signaled to open the iron chain to let the Laurel Wind enter the dock.When the swan-boat was moored, Sam came to the step with Koja Mo and her three archers, and he felt shabby beside them in the splendid feathered cloaks that the Summer Islanders wear only when they go ashore. , still in baggy black, faded cloak, and salt-stained boots. "How long have you been in port?" "Two days, ten days, who can say for sure? We'll leave after the cargo hold is emptied and filled again." Kou Jia said with a smile. "My father will certainly visit the gray maesters, too. He has books to sell." "Can Gilly stay on the boat and wait for me?" "Gilly can stay as long as she wants." She poked Sam in the stomach. "She's not as gluttonous as someone." "I'm not as fat as I used to be," Sam argued.The southbound voyage led to this result.He was constantly on duty and had nothing to eat but fruit and fish.The Summer Islanders love fruit and fish. Sam followed the archers across the treads, but once on shore they parted ways.He wished he still remembered the way to Xuecheng.Oldtown was a maze, and he had no time to get lost. It was humid, the cobblestones were wet and slippery underfoot, and the alleys were shrouded in mist.Sam avoided them as much as he could, following the river road, where the Mead River wound its way through the heart of the ancient city.It feels wonderful to be back on solid ground and off the rickety deck.However, he was still uncomfortable while walking. He felt that people's eyes were on him, some were peeping from the balcony and windows, and some were hiding in the dark doorway.On the Laurelwind he knew every face, but here they were all strangers.To make matters worse, he worries about being recognized.Lord Randyll Tarly was well known in Oldtown, but not loved.Sam didn't know which was worse, being recognized by his father's enemies or by his friends. He could only pull up his cloak and quicken his pace. There are a pair of tall green Sphinx statues on both sides of the gate of the Academy City, with a lion's body, eagle wings, and snake tail. One of them has a man's face and the other has a woman's face.Entering the door is the clerical desk, where people from the old town come to look for assistant bachelors, write their wills and read letters for them.Five or six clerks sit bored in front of open booths waiting for customers.There are other stalls where you can buy and sell books.Sam stopped by a map booth, looked at a hand-painted map of the school city, and looked for the shortest way to the Governor's Court. The road forked in front of the statue of Daeron I, and the king sat on a tall stone horse, pointing his sword at Dorne.At this moment, one seagull landed on the head of Master Shaolong, and two more landed on the sword.Sam went left, along the river.At the Weeping Docks, he watched as two maesters helped an old man into a boat for the nearby Blood Isle.A young mother crawled in after the old man, with a wailing baby about Gilly's age in her arms.Below the pier, a few kitchen helpers were wading in the shallows to catch frogs.A group of young apprentices with pink faces hurried past him, heading towards the church.I should have been here when I was their age, Sam thought, and if I had sneaked away and taken a false name, I might have disappeared among the other apprentices.Father would pretend that Dickon was his only son, and I doubt he would even bother to find me unless I rode off on a mule--he would hunt me down, just for the mule. Outside the Chief Steward's Pavilion, the trainers are locking an older apprentice into the storage room. "Stealing from the kitchen," one of the maesters explained to the assistant maesters, who were waiting to smash prisoners with rotten leaves.Sam's black cloak fluttered behind him like a sail, and people cast curious glances as he passed quickly, Inside the door is a hall with a stone floor and high arched windows.At the end of the hall a thin-faced man was sitting on a raised platform, writing with a quill in a booklet.Although the man was wearing a bachelor's robe, there was no necklace around his neck.Sam cleared his throat. "Good morning." The man looked up and seemed dissatisfied with what he saw, "You smell like an apprentice." "I hope to be an apprentice soon." Sam drew out Jon Snow's letter. "I came from the Wall with Maester Aemon, but he died on the voyage. I want to speak to the steward..." "your name?" "Sam. Samwell Tarly." The man wrote it in the booklet, then waved the quill and pointed to the bench against the wall. "Sit down. I'll call your name when it's your turn." Sam sat down on the bench. Others come and go.Some took their leave after bringing news.After talking to the person on the high platform, some directly entered the door behind him and walked up the spiral staircase.Some joined Sam and sat on the bench to be summoned.He was almost certain that several of those summoned came after him.When this happened four or five times, he stood up and walked to the end of the hall again. "How long we have to wait?" "There are too many things to manage." "I came all the way from the Great Wall." "Then it doesn't matter if you wait a little longer." He waved the quill. "Go and sit on the stool, under the window." He goes back to the bench.Another hour passed.After talking to the people on the high platform, others can go in after a short wait, but the gatekeeper never looked up at Sam.The fog outside gradually dissipated, and pale sunlight slanted in through the windows.He stared at the dust dancing in the sunlight, and yawned one after another involuntarily.He fiddled with a burst blister in his palm, leaning his head against the wall, closing his eyes. He must have dozed off, because the next thing he heard was the gatekeeper calling his name from behind the raised platform.Sam stood up suddenly, then realized that it was not his name, and sat back down. "You have to give Rocas a copper coin, or you will wait for three days," said a voice from the side, "Why did the night watchman come to the city?" The speaker was a slender, handsome young man in buckskin breeches and a green bustier studded with iron studs.He had a complexion of hazel ale, a mass of black curly hair, and large black eyes under a pointed forehead. "The Commander-in-Chief is restoring the abandoned castle," Sam explained. "We need more maesters to manage the crows... a penny, did you just say a penny?" "One copper coin is enough. If you are willing to offer a silver stag, Rocas will take you directly to meet the steward behind him. He has been an assistant bachelor for fifty years, and he hates apprentices the most, especially apprentices of noble origin." "How do you know that I am of noble origin?" "Just as you can tell I'm half Dornish," he said, smiling, with a slight Dornish drawl. Sam fumbled out a copper plate. "Are you an apprentice?" "I'm Laresa, the assistant bachelor. Some people call me the Sphinx." The name surprised Sam. "'The sphinx is the puzzle, not the puzzler,'" he blurted out. "Do you know what that means?" "I don't know. Is this a puzzle?" "I wish I knew. I'm Samwell Tarly. Sam." "Nice meeting. What is Samwell Tarly doing with Dr. Theobald?" "He's the steward?" Sam asked suspiciously. "Maester Aemon said the steward's name was Norn." "Two rounds have passed. There is a new supervisor here every year, and the doctors draw lots to decide. Most people think this is a thankless task, forcing themselves to stay away from serious work. This year Dr. Wargrave got the black stone, but Wargrave Greve was often insane, so Theobald volunteered to take his place. He was bad-tempered, but a good fellow. Did you say Maester Aemon?" "Yes indeed." "Aemon Targaryen?" "It used to be. Most people called him Maester Aemon. He died on the southbound voyage. How did you know him?" "How can you not know? Not only is he the longest-lived maester, but he is also the oldest man in Westeros. He has experienced more history than Dr. Perestan has ever read. He can tell us a lot Lots and lots about his father and his uncle's reign. How old he was, do you know?" "one hundred and two." "What is he doing at sea at his age?" Sam considered the question for a while, not knowing how much to say.The sphinx is the puzzle, not the puzzler.Does Maester Aemon mean this sphinx?Seems unlikely. "Commander Snow sent him away to save his life," he began hesitantly.He talked clumsily of King Stannis and Melisandre of Asshai, and meant to stop there, but one thing led to another, and he couldn't help talking of Mance Rayder and the wildlings, Speaking of dragons and King's blood, then everything comes out; wights on the Fist of the First Men, White Walkers on dead horses, Old Bear killed at Craster's Keep, Gilly and him escape, White Tree Village and Little Paul, Cold Hand and Crow, Jon as Lord Commander, Blackbird, Darion, Braavos, the Dragon Chong saw in Qarth, Laurel Wind, Master Aemon's dying murmur whisper.He kept only the secrets he swore to keep, about Bran Stark and his mates, and the babies Jon had switched. "Daenerys is the only hope," he concluded, "and Aemon says the Citadel must send her a maester immediately, to bring her home to Westeros in time." Laresa listened intently.He blinked from time to time, but never laughed or interrupted.When Sam was done, he touched his forearm lightly with his thin brown hand. "Save your pennies, Sam, Theobald won't believe half of it, but someone will. Will you come with me?" "Where are you going?" "Go talk to a doctor." You must tell them, Sam, Maester Aemon said, to the magi. "Okay." He can also come back to see the manager tomorrow, just remember to pay a copper coin, "How far is it?" "Not far. On the Isle of Crows." There is no need for a boat on the Upper Crow Island, and a weather-beaten wooden suspension bridge connects the island to the east coast. "The Raven's Tower is the oldest building in the Citadel," Laresa told him as they crossed the slow-flowing Mead River. "In the Age of Heroes, it was the stronghold of the Pirate Lord. disembarked ship." Sam saw moss and vines cover the walls, and on the battlements crows took the place of the archers.The drawbridge has never been raised in living memory. It was cool and dark inside the fortress walls.An old weirwood tree dominates the yard and bears witness to the original condition of the stones.The carved human face on the trunk and the pale branches are covered with a thick layer of purple moss. Half of the branches look dead, and there are still some red leaves in the rest, which is the favorite habitat of crows.The trees were full of crows, and there were more around the circle of arched windows above the yard.The ground was strewn with feces.One of them fluttered over their heads as they crossed the yard, and the others yelled at each other. "Dr. Wargrave's suite is in the west tower, below the crow's nest," Laresa told him. "White and black quarrel like Dornishmen and frontiersmen, so separate the two kinds of crows." "Will Dr. Wargrave know about me?" said Sam doubtfully. "You say he's often out of his mind." "He's been up and down," Laresa said, "but it's not Wargrave you're going to see." He opened the door to the north tower and began to climb.Sam followed him up the steps.There was a flapping and whispering of wings above, and now and then an angry screech as the crows complained of being woken. At the top of the stairs, a fair-skinned, fair-haired young man sat outside an oak iron door.He was about Sam's age, and he was gazing intently into the flame of a candle with his right eye, his left hidden behind a dangling lock of light-blond hair. "What are you looking for?" Laresa asked him. "Your fate? Your death?" The blond young man took his eyes off the candle, turned his head, and blinked. "Nude," he said, "who is this?" "Samwell. Meet the new apprentice of the 'Wizard'." "School City is not what it used to be," complained the blond young man, "everything is accepted now. Black dogs, Dornish men, not to mention swineherds, crippled, mentally handicapped, and now there is another one Whale in black. Hey, I thought all sea beasts were gray.” He wore a green and gold striped shawl, and he was very handsome, but with twinkling eyes and a vicious mouth. Sam knew him. "Leo Tyrell," the name made him feel as if he were still a seven-year-old boy who could piss his pants, "I am Sam of Horn Hill, son of Lord Randyll Tarly." "Really?" Leo gave him another look. "I think so. Your father told us all that you were dead, so it seems he just wanted you dead?" He grinned. "Are you still as timid as a mouse?" "No," Sam lied.After all, Jon had given orders. "I fought beyond the Wall, and now they call me Sam the Killer." He didn't know why he was boasting so much. Leo laughed, but before he could answer, the door opened behind him. "Come in, killer," said the man in the door in a low voice, "and you, Sphinx. Come on." "Sam," said Laresa, "this is Dr. Marwyn." Aside from the fact that Marwyn wore a chain of countless metals around his bullish neck, he looked more like a wharf thug than a maester.His head was too big for his body, and the way it jutted forward between his shoulders and the slate-like jaw made him look like he was about to screw someone's head off.Despite his stocky build, he was very thick in chest and shoulders.He wore no gown, and the straps of his leather tunic were stretched tight by a round wine belly as hard as stone.Standing white hairs protruded from his ears and nostrils.He had a protruding forehead, a broken nose more than once, and his teeth were mottled red by sour grass leaves.He had the biggest hands Sam had ever seen in his life. Sam was still hesitating, but one of those big hands took him by the arm and drew him through the door.Inside was a large round room, full of books and scrolls, some spread out on the table, and others stacked in piles on the floor to a height of four feet.Faded tapestry and tattered maps lined the stone walls.A fire was burning in the hearth, and there was a copper kettle on it. I don't know what was cooking, but it smelled of burning.Otherwise, the only light came from a tall black candle in the center of the room. The candle was uncomfortably bright, unsettling.Dr. Marwin slammed the door shut, shaking the papers off the side table, but the candle flame did not flicker.The color of the fire was strange, white as new snow, yellow like molten gold, red like flames, but the shadow it left was so black, like the black hole of the world.Sam found himself staring at it, a candle three feet high, thin as a sword, with a spiral edge as sharp as a knife, flickering black. "this is……?" "...obsidian," said another in the room.He was a pale, plump young man with round shoulders, limp hands, close-set eyes, and food-stained robes. "Call it dragonglass." Dr. Marwyn looked at the candle for a moment. "It burns, but doesn't wear out." "The flame has no fuel?" asked Sam in amazement. "What fuels Dragon Burn?" Marwyn sat down on a stool. "Valyrian witchcraft is based on blood and fire. With this glass candle, the wizards of the old Freehold could see across mountains, seas, and deserts; sitting before it, they could enter other people's dreams and manifest visions, or Communication halfway across the world. Do you think it's useful, Killer?" "We don't need crows anymore." "It's only needed after the war." The doctor took a piece from a pack of sourgrass leaves and stuffed it into his mouth to chew. "Tell me again everything you told the sphinx of Dorne. I know a lot, but some details may have been overlooked." He's the kind of guy who can't say no.Sam hesitated a moment, then told the story to Marwyn, Laresa, and the other apprentice again. "Maester Aemon believes that Daenerys Targaryen fulfilled the prophecy...she, not Stannis, not Prince Rhaegar, nor the little prince whose head was smashed against the wall." "Born in the land of salt and smoke, with the Star of Weeping Blood. I know the prophecy." Marwyn turned his head and spat a mouthful of red mucus onto the ground. "But I don't believe it. Gorgon of the Gughis Empire once wrote that prophecy is like a cunning woman. She will take your dick in her mouth and make you moan with pleasure, thinking how sweet it is , how wonderful, how comfortable...then she snapped her teeth together, and your moaning turned into a scream. Gorgon thinks this is the nature of prophecy, and prophecy will bite your cock off every time." He chewed a few times . "Having said that..." Laresa walked over to Sam. "If Aemon has strength, he will go to Daenerys himself. He wants us to send her a maester to assist her, teach her, protect her, and bring her home safely." "Really?" Dr. Marwyn shrugged. "Maybe it's a good thing that he died before he arrived in Old Town, otherwise the gray sheep would have to kill people, and those poor old guys would be so sad that they would wring their wrinkled hands tightly." "Kill him?" Sam asked in shock. "Why?" "If I tell you the truth, they may have to kill you too." Marwyn laughed miserably, with the red juice of sour grass leaves between his teeth. "How do you think dragons became extinct? Dragon slayer warriors with iron swords did it?" He spat. "The world the Citadel is attempting to construct has no place for witchcraft, prophecy, and glass candles, let alone dragons. You ask yourself why Aemon Targaryen should have been promoted to a doctor long ago, and why waste the rest of his life on the Great Wall. Because of blood. Blood. Caused him not to be trusted. Same with me." "What are you going to do?" Laresa, known as the Sphinx, asked. "I'm going to Slaver's Bay in Aemon's place. The swan ship the Killer was in is enough for me, and I have no doubt that the Gray Sheep will send for a rowboat, but if the wind blows, I can go first." Find her." Marwyn frowned at Sam again. "You...you should stay and forge the necklace. If I were you, I would seize all the time. Soon, you will be needed on the Great Wall." He turned to the pale apprentice. "Find the killer a dry room. He'll take care of the crows for you first." "But-but-but," stammered Sam, "what do I tell them about the other Doctors . . . the Chief . . . ?" "Praise them for their learning and kindness; tell them that Aemon has entrusted you to them; tell them that you have always dreamed of wearing a necklace and serving the great, for allegiance is the highest honor and obedience is supreme Virtue. But never mention prophecies or dragons, unless you want to be poisoned in your porridge." Marwyn took a faded leather cloak from the wooden latch by the door, and tied it securely around him. "Sphinx, take care of this guy." "Okay." Laresa agreed, but the doctor had already left.They heard his boots treading down the stairs. "Where is he going?" Sam asked suspiciously. "Go to the pier. Magicians are always swift and decisive." Laresa smiled. "I confess to you, Sam, that we did not meet by chance. The magician sent me to you, before you met Theobald. He knew you were coming." "How could he..." Laresa nodded to the glass candle. Sam stared at the strange pale flame for a moment, then blinked and looked away. It was getting dark outside the window. "There's a spare bedroom below my room in Sita, and there's a staircase leading upstairs to Wargrave's suite," said the pale young man. Admire the view of the Mead River. How about that?" "Okay." He had to have somewhere to sleep. "I'll get you some woolen sheets. Even in Oldtown, the stone walls get cold at night." "Thanks." The pale, frail young man had an odd feeling he didn't like, but he didn't want to be rude, so he added, "I'm not a killer. I'm Sam. Samwell Tarly." "I'm Pate," said the other, "named after 'Freckle' Pate, the swineherd in the story."