Chapter 16 Chapter Fifteen Jon

"Aren't they big enough?" Snowflakes fell on Tormund's broad face, melting in hair and beard. The giants swayed slowly on the backs of the mammoths, passing by two in a row.Jon's pony backed away in horror at the sight, whether it was the mammoth or the rider who frightened it.Even Bai Ling took a step back, bared his teeth, and growled silently.Although the direwolves are huge, they are nothing compared to the mammoths, not to mention the large number of the latter. Jon held the reins in his hand and steadied his horse, trying to count how many giants there were along the snowy and misty Milk River.When he counted to fifty, he was interrupted by Tormund's words, but there must have been hundreds.Their ranks are endless and endless.

In Old Nan's stories, giants were oversized humans who lived in giant castles, fought with giant swords, and had enough shoes for a human boy to hide in.However, the creatures in front of her didn't quite match her description. It should be said that they were more bear-like, and as hairy as the mammoth.Since the giants are all sitting, it is difficult to determine the exact height.Maybe ten feet, maybe twelve, Jon thought, maybe fourteen, but no higher.Their protruding chests are similar to those of humans, and their arms are long and hang down, and the lower arms are half as wide as the upper arms.And their legs are shorter than their hands, very thick, and they don't wear shoes at all, because the soles of their feet are broad, black, hard, and covered with calluses.Due to the absence of necks, their heavy heads protrude from between the shoulder blades, and their faces are flat and fierce. Their small mouse-like eyes are no larger than beads, and they are almost invisible sunken in the horny skin. .

They weren't wearing animal skins, Jon realized, just long hair.The body is covered in matted hair, denser below the waist and sparser above, and emits a suffocating stench—which, of course, may also have originated from the mammoth.In the ballad, Qiaoman blows the horn of winter to wake up the giants from the ground.The giant in front of him was not equipped with a ten-foot-long sword. He only saw sticks, most of which were made of dead tree branches, dragging broken branches, and some of them had stone balls tied to the end to use as mallets.The song didn't say whether the horn would put them back to sleep.

One of the giants who came towards them looked older than the rest.His hair was gray with white stripes, and the mammoth was larger than his kind, also gray and white.As he passed, Tormund shouted something in some harsh clang that Jon could not understand, and the giant opened his mouth, showing a mouthful of big, strong teeth, in a sound that was part hiccup, part roar.It was a moment before Jon realized he was laughing.The mammoth turned its huge head, glanced briefly at them both, and came clumsily, leaving huge footprints in the mud and fresh snow beside the river, a huge tusk brushing over Jon's head. Pass.Then the giant yelled down below in the rough language Tormund had just spoken.

"Is that their king?" Jon asked. "Giants have no king, like mammoths, snow bears, and whales of the Gray Sea. This is Marg Maz Tundo Doll Wig, which means 'Mighty Mag'. Haha, if You can kneel down to him if you like, he won't mind, I know your bent knees are itching again, always wanting to bow down to some prince. But be careful, don't let him step on you, giant eyes are not good, Maybe you can't see the little crow at your feet." "What did you say to him? Is it an old saying?" "That's right. I say he's really a good son to his father. They look too much alike, but his father smells better."

"What did he tell you?" Thunderfist Tormund grinned with a toothless mouth and said, "He asked me if the white and pink guy riding next to me was my daughter!" The wildling shook the snow off his arm and turned the horse's head. "Probably he has never seen a man without a beard in his life. Come on, let's go back. If we don't find me later, Mance will definitely lose his temper." Jon turned and followed Tormund toward the front of the line, his new cloak hanging heavily over his shoulders.It was sewn from unwashed sheepskin, worn on the down side as the Wildling suggested.It was enough protection from the wind and snow, and a good night's sleep guaranteed, but instead of throwing away the black cloak, he folded it and stowed it under the saddle. "Have you really killed a giant?" he asked Tormund as he rode forward.Bai Ling jogged quietly beside him, making paw prints in the fresh snow.

"Oh, it's false? Why do you doubt a strong man like me? It was winter. I was young, and little boys were stupid. I ran too far, and the horse died. Then came a storm again. A real storm, not this flour-sprinkling weather. Ha! I knew I'd freeze to death before the storm abated, so I found a sleeping giant, and cut open her belly, Crawled in. She was indeed warm inside, but the stench almost choked me to death. Worst of all, she woke up in the spring, treated me like her baby, and fed me for three months before I managed to escape. Month's milk. Ha! But sometimes I miss the taste of giant's milk."

"She feeds you, how can you kill her?" "Of course I didn't kill her—you mustn't spread the word about it. Tormund the Giantsbane sounds much better than Tormund the Baby, doesn't it?" "And how did you get your other nicknames?" Jon asked. "Mance called you the Trumpeter, didn't he? And the Mead King of the Red Hall, the Husband of the Snow Bear, and the Father of the Living?" What I inquired about was the nickname "The Trumpeter", but I dared not ask too directly.Legend has it that Qiaoman blew the horn of winter to wake up the giants from the ground.Is this really how giants and mammoths came to be?Did Mance Rayder find Jomann's horn and give it to Tormund Thunderfist to blow?

"Are all crows so curious?" Tormund asked. "Well, here's the story. It was another winter, colder than the one I spent in the giant's belly, and it snowed day and night, and the snowflakes were as big as your head, and it wasn't a small scene like this. The snow is falling, the whole village is half buried, and I live in the Red Room, with only a barrel of mead for company. Nothing to do but drink, and the more I drink, the more I miss the woman who lives nearby Well, she's strong and pretty looking, with amazingly bigger tits, and has a bad temper, yes—but, oh, she's hot, too, and in the middle of winter a man needs heat."

"The more I drank, the more I thought about her, and the more I thought about her, the harder it was, until I couldn't take it anymore. I was so stupid that I wrapped myself in fur from head to toe, and covered my face with a piece of wool Wind scarf, rushed out to find her. The snow was falling so hard that I couldn’t tell the way. The wind pierced through my body and froze my bones, but I finally found her. She was covered in fur like me. "Women are really bad tempered, and I hold her, and she fights so hard, and it takes all my strength to bring her home, shed all her fur, and when I do, oh, she's so hot it's impossible to remember. Then, afterward we had a good time and then went to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, the snow had stopped and the sun was shining, but I was not in good shape, with wounds all over my body, and the mouth was bitten off in half, On the floor was a mother bear's hide. Before long, the free folk were talking about a bald bear in the forest followed by two very strange cubs. Ha!" He slapped his thick thigh. "I wish I could find her and sleep again, she-bear! No woman could have resisted me like this, and no woman could have borne me such a strong son."

"So what if you find her?" Jon asked with a smile, "Didn't she bite off your words?" "Only half bitten off! Mine is twice as long as anyone else's." Tormund snorted. "And then, about you...was it cut off when you were a soldier on the Wall?" "No," Jon said, feeling humiliated. "I thought that must be the case, otherwise why would you reject Ygritte? In my opinion, she will not resist you at all. She wants you. This is obvious, even a blind person can see it." It was obvious, Jon thought, and half the team seemed to see it.He watched the falling snow to hide his blushing from Tormund.I'm a man of the Night's Watch, he reminded himself, not a shy maiden. He spends most of the day with Ygritte, as well as at night.Since Rattleshirt doesn't trust "capricious crows", Mance Rayder, after giving Jon a new sheepskin cloak, offers him to follow Tormund the Giantsbane, which Jon happily accepts.The next day, Ygritte and Rick the Spear left Rattleshirt's ranks to join Tormund's. "The free folk can be with whoever they want," the girl told him. "We've had enough of those bones." Ygritte always slept with the fur beside him when he camped every night, whether he was near or far from the campfire.Once when he woke up in the middle of the night, he found her snuggling up to him with her arms around his chest.He lay listening to her breathing for a long, long time, trying to suppress the urge between his thighs.He reassured himself that the rangers were often slept with, but suspected that keeping warm was more than all Ygritte wanted.Later, he separated the two with Bai Ling.In Old Nan's story, when the knight had to sleep with a lady, for honor, he would put a sword in the middle. He thought that it might be the first time in the world to use a direwolf instead of a sword. Even so, Ygritte persisted.Just the day before yesterday, Jon made the mistake of revealing that he wanted to take a hot shower. "It's fine if it's colder," she said immediately. "Someone will warm you up later. Go, the river is only half frozen." Jon laughed, "You want to freeze me to death?" "Are all crows so afraid of the cold? What's wrong with the ice? You can't die. Otherwise, I'll jump down with you." "Wet clothes freeze skin!" he objected. "Jon Snow, you don't understand anything. Of course you jump naked." "I'm not going down," he said firmly, and then slipped away, claiming that Tormund Thunderfist was looking for him. Because of the red hair, the wild people think that Ygritte is extremely beautiful; there are few red hair among the free people, and it represents the kiss of fire, which is a symbol of luck.Lucky or not, Ygritte's hair was red, but it was a mess, and Jon sometimes couldn't help asking her if she only combed her hair when the seasons changed. He understood that if she was born in a southern aristocratic family, this girl would only be regarded as plain-looking.She had a round farmer's face, a snub nose, teeth that were a little crooked, and eyes set far apart, which Jon had noticed the first time he met her, when he held the knife to the girl's throat.But then he noticed something else: when she grinned, her crooked teeth didn't bother her; she might have set her eyes wide apart, but those beautiful blue-gray eyes were the most vivid thing he'd ever seen; She crooned in her husky voice, and it would move him; and sometimes, sitting with her knees wrapped around the campfire, flames and red hair, looking at him and smiling... well, that gave him something, too. some touches. No, I am a man of the Night's Watch, I swear it.I will take no wives, hold no lands, and bear no children.I swore an oath before the weirwood, before my father's god, and I would never go back on it... and I couldn't admit my reluctance to the "Father of Life" Thunderfist Tormund. "You don't like that girl?" Tormund asked him as they passed another twenty mammoths.What these mammoths carried were not giants, but tall wooden towers, among which were savages. "No, but I..." Will he believe what I say? "I'm too young to marry." "Marry?" Tormund laughed. "Who says marriage? Do men in the South have to marry every girl they sleep with?" Jon felt himself blushing again. "When Rattleshirt tried to kill me, she spoke for me, and I couldn't damage her reputation." "You are already a free citizen, and so is Ygritte. You can sleep when you want, how can you be dishonored?" "I'll let her have a baby." "Yes, I hope so. Wouldn't it be better to have a strong son, or a lively and laughing girl, kissed by fire?" He didn't know what to say. "The child...the child will be an illegitimate child." "Could it be that illegitimate children are weaker than other children? Are they more likely to get sick? Are they more likely to die young?" "No, but—" "You are an illegitimate child yourself! If Ygritte doesn't want it, she will go to the forest witch and ask for a cup of moon tea. After the seeds are sown, you don't have to worry about anything else." "I will never give birth to an illegitimate child outside." Tormund shook his head with wild hair, "You kneeling southerners are so stupid. You don't want her, so why are you stealing her?" "Steal? I didn't..." "No?" Tormund said, "You killed the two people around her and took her away. Isn't that called stealing?" "She is my prisoner." "Think clearly, you want her to surrender to you." "Yes, but... Tormund, I swear I didn't touch her." "Did they really not cut that word out of you?" Tormund shrugged, as if to say that he would never understand such folly. "Well, you're a freeman, and if you don't want a woman, you'd better get yourself a she-bear. A man can't just leave him alone, and it'll keep getting smaller and smaller until one day, you want Pee, but can't find it." Jon was speechless.No wonder the people of the Seven Kingdoms think the free folk are not human at all.They have no laws, no honor, not even a basic moral code.They stole endlessly from each other, bred like beasts, worshiped rape and disregarded marriage, and bastardized everywhere.But anyway, he found himself growing fond of Tormund the Giantsbane--though he was a veritable braggadocio--and Rick the Spear, Ygritte...no, don't think about Ygritte . Riding with Tormund and Lance and they were all sorts of other wildlings: some as obnoxious as Rattleshirt or Weeper, who not only spat at him, but gladly stabbed him; A woman as thick as a barrel, with cheeks like two thick pieces of white meat, she hates dogs most, kills one every two weeks, and hangs a fresh dog's head on the flag as a sign; the earless Sty is the Mag of Thenn Well, his people looked upon him as a god, not a mere chief; Varamyr the Sixshapes, a little mouse, and his mount was a fierce white snow bear, standing on its hind legs ten feet tall. Three feet tall, he was accompanied by three wolves and a shadow lynx.Jon had only seen him once, and once was enough to make his hair stand on end. Even Ghost raised his neck hair at the sight of the bear and the big black-and-white lynx. And there are wildlings fiercer than Varamyr, and they hail from the far north of the Haunted Wood, or the hidden valleys of the Frostfangs, and stranger places even.The aborigines of the Frozen Coast drove a walrus-bone chariot, pulled by a big white dog; the terrifying glacier tribe was said to live on human flesh; the cavemen dyed their faces blue, purple and green; Walking on the ice and snow, the soles of the feet are like boiled leather.Of course, there weren't any oddities in the party, but he was sure Tormund would get some for a late-night snack if necessary. According to Jon's judgment, at least half of the wildling troops have never seen the Great Wall in their lives, and most of them cannot speak the Common Tongue.But that's okay.Mance Rayder spoke the Old Tongue and even sang in it, and every night he played the harp and made strange and wild music. In order to integrate this large and complicated team, Mance spent many years painstakingly.He negotiated with the tribal chiefs everywhere, with the Magnars, won the first village with sweet words, another with singing songs, and the third with swords; he made peace between Harma the dog and the king of bones He made Stridefoot communicate with the Nightwalker, reconciled the Tuskarmen of the Frozen Shore with the cannibal tribe of the Great Glacier; he forged a hundred different daggers into one great spear, and aimed it at the heart of the Seven Kingdoms.He had no crown, nor scepter, nor silk, but Jon could see that Mance Rayder was no king in name only. Jon joined the wildlings at the request of Qolin Halfhand. "March with them, dine with them, fight with them," the Ranger said to him the night before his death. "Your task is to observe." But all the time, the results of his observations are very limited. .Halfhand suspects wildlings are going into the remote and cold Frostfang in search of some weapon, some power, some lost spell to break through the Wall... and whether they find it or not, it's neither talked about nor bought.Mance Rayder had not told him of any plans or strategies, and he had never been near the wildling king since their meeting the night before. If it's not for me, I'll kill him.Thinking of this, Jon was in a gloomy mood. Murder was not only without honor, but also cost his own life.But he could not let the wildlings break through the Wall, invade Winterfell and the North, the Mounds of the First Men and the Streamlands, White Harbor and the Stony Shore, or even go south down the Neck.For eight thousand years, the Stark family has fought bravely to protect their people from the threat of raiders, and it has been passed down from generation to generation... Whether it is bastard or not, the same blood still flows in his veins.Besides, Bran and Rickon were still at Winterfell, and Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik, Old Nan, Frank the Menagerie, Mikken the Blacksmith, Gage the Chef...everyone he knew and loved. Everyone is there.And if I have to kill someone worthy of my admiration to protect them from Rattleshirt, Harma the Dog, and Thern Magnar the earless, that's all I can do. But he still prayed to his father's old gods to spare him this frustrating task.Overwhelmed by herds of cattle, children, and all kinds of baggage, the procession moved very slowly, and the snow further slowed the progress.However, most of the people have gone down the mountain, flowing slowly on the west bank of the Milk River like melted honey, heading towards the depths of the Ghost Forest along the river. Jon knew that not far ahead, the Fist of the First Men towered over the forest, and there were three hundred brothers in black from the Night's Watch stationed there, armed and equipped with mounts, guarding the main road.Besides Halfhand, the Elder Bear had sent other scouts, and Jarmen Bookwell and Thoren Smallwood should have returned by now with news of the wildlings' attack. Mormont is not going to run, Jon thought. He is stubborn and has gone too far.He would attack regardless of the numbers.Not long after, when the horns could be heard, and the riders charged forward, their black cloaks fluttering and their hands holding icy weapons.Of course, it is impossible for 300 people to kill 30,000 people, but Jon is very clear about the night watchman's strategy.There is only one goal, one key point, Mance. The King Beyond the Wall had done his best, but the Wildlings' indiscipline remained hopeless, leaving them vulnerable.The line winds for leagues, and there are many fierce fighters among them, but more than a third of those who can fight are at the two ends of the line, either serving the front of the dog-headed hamam, or forming a fierce rear with giants, buffalo, and fire-throwers another third went with Mance himself in the center, guarding the carts, sleds, and dog-drawn wagons, which were the supplies of the regiment, all the harvest left over from the summer; Jarl, Tormund the Giantsbane, and the Weeper led them as scouts, requisitioners, or overseers, running endlessly back and forth along the ranks to restrain everyone from advancing more or less orderly. What is particularly deadly is that only one out of a hundred wildlings has a horse.The Old Bear's line will run through like an ax through porridge.As a result, Mance had to lead his cavalry in pursuit, in order to defeat the Night's Watch.If he dies in the next battle, the Great Wall will be peaceful for another hundred years, if otherwise... He opened and closed his sword hand, his burning fingers ready to move.Longclaw hung from the saddle, and he had easy access to the longsword's roaring wolf-headed stone ball and soft leather handle. It was several hours before they caught up with Tormund's party, and the snow was falling hard.Ghost left halfway, went to the forest to track his prey, and he would come back when he camped at night, no later than dawn.The direwolves are always there... just like Ygritte. "So," cried the girl when she saw him, "do you believe it now, Jon Snow? Have you seen the giant on the mammoth?" "Ha! More than that," Tormund yelled before Jon could answer, "there's a crow for someone else! Might have to marry one!" "Marry a giantess?" Rick Lance laughed. "No, marry a mammoth!" Tormund yelled back. "Ha!" Jon slowed his horse, Ygritte at his side.She claimed to be three years older than him. Although she was half a foot shorter in height, no matter how old she was, her toughness was beyond doubt.In Windsound Gap, Stone Snake calls her a "spearwife," but she's not married, and her weapon of choice is a short bow made of horn and weirwood, but Jon thinks the term "spearwife" fits well she.She reminded him of his younger sister Arya, though Arya was smaller and thinner, and Ygritte wore so much fur that it was difficult to judge her figure. "Can you sing 'The Last Giant'?" Ygritte said without waiting for an answer. "My voice isn't deep enough to sing well," she began. giant, I have no companion." Tormund the Giantsbane heard the singing, and sang along. "The last giants, come from the mountains, we once ruled the world," he roared back through the snow. Rick the Lance joins in, "Ah, the little people stole the forest, stole the mountains, stole the rivers." "They built great walls in the vale, and took all the fish in the streams," Ygritte and Tormund sang alternately in loud voices. Tormund's sons Torreg and Tormund answered in deep voices, and then his daughter Munda and all.Everyone matched the rhythm, struck the leather shield with spears, and sang as they walked: They lit a great fire in the stone hall, Forge sharp spears. And I am alone in the mountains, No companions but tears. Chased by dogs during the day, There are also torches at night. Just because if there is a giant in the sun, The little people have trouble sleeping and eating. Ahhhhhh, I am the last giant, Please remember my song. One day I will go and the song dies, The silence lasted, for a long time. When it was over, Ygritte had tears on her face. "Why are you crying?" Jon asked, puzzled. "It's just a song. There are hundreds of giants, I just saw." "Oh, hundreds!" she said excitedly. "You know nothing, Jon Snow. You—Jon!" Jon turned his head with the sudden flapping of wings.The gray-blue giant wings blocked his sight, and the sharp claws sunk into his face.The sting came hard and sudden, and the eagle's wings flapped around the head.He saw the beak, but didn't have time to raise his hand to block it or take his weapon.So he flipped backwards, his foot came out of the stirrup, the horse ran away in terror, and the man fell downward.The eagle clung to his face, tore it with its talons, and slapped and pecked it, screaming.The world was turned upside down in chaos, feathers, horsemeat, and blood churned together, and the ground came up against the pounding. The next thing he realized, he was face down, mouth full of mud and the taste of blood, and Ygritte kneeling protectively above, clutching a bone dagger.He could still hear the sound of wings, but the eagle could not see it.Half the world is dark. "My eyes," he yelled suddenly in panic, reaching up to his face. "Only blood, Jon Snow, he pierced the upper skin and missed the eye." His cheeks were throbbing. He wiped the blood from his left eye while observing with his right eye.Tormund roared from above, and then came the clatter of hooves and shouts and the clash of dead bones. "Bag of bones," growled Tormund, "call your bloody crow back!" "Here's the bloody crow!" Rattleshirt said, pointing at Jon. "He's lying in the mud bleeding like a treacherous dog!" The hawk flapped down and landed on the broken helm on the giant skull. "I want him!" "Come," said Tormund, "better get your sword, for I'll get mine. I'll boil your bones for a urinal. Ha!" "Stop talking nonsense! When I poke through your bragging body, you'll shrink smaller than that girl! Stand aside, if you don't want to annoy Mance." Ygritte stood up. "What did you say? Mance is looking for him?" "That's right, are your ears calloused? Let this black-hearted guy get up by himself." Tormund lowered his head and frowned at Jon, "If Mance means it, you'd better go quickly." Ygritte helped him stop, "He's bleeding! He looks like a slaughtered pig, look what Auriel has done to that pretty face!" Do birds hold grudges too?Jon had slain Auriel the Wildling, but a part of him remained in the eagle, and now looked at him coldly and maliciously with golden pupils. "I'll go," he replied.Blood continued to flow into his right eye, and his cheek was burning with pain.He touched his cheek, and his black gloves turned red. "Bring the horse, please." It was Ghost he wanted, not the horse, but the direwolf wasn't with him, maybe eating elk miles away.At this time, it is better for him to leave As he approached, the mount flinched in horror, no doubt startled by the blood on his face, but Jon's soft words calmed it and let him grab the reins and roll into the saddle.With the movement, his head became dizzy.I need to bandage my wounds, but not now, first to show the King-beyond-the-Wall what his eagle has done to me.He let his right hand open and close for a moment, then took the long claw, swung it to his shoulder, turned the horse, and walked towards the king of bones and his team. Ygritte also got on the horse, with a stern expression, "I'm going too." "Go away," rattled the bone armor on Rattleshirt's chest, "we want the stinking crow and no one else." "The free folk can go where they please," said Ygritte. The cold wind blew snowflakes into Jon's eyes, and the blood froze on his face. "Shall we talk crap or go?" "Go," said the King of Bones. Running fast all the way, the atmosphere is gloomy.They rode along the ranks for two miles through the rolling snow, then through a tangle of baggage wagons and splashed across the Milky River.Here, the Milk River made a wide bend to the east, forming a shallow shoal, covered with thin ice, allowing the horseshoes to trample ten yards away before it deepened.The snow falls faster and deeper on the East Coast, and the wind is colder.Night is coming. But through the snow and wind he could see great white hills rising above the forest.Ancestors Fist Peak.Eagles screeched overhead, and as they passed the Pine Tree, a crow looked down and screeched.Could it be that Mr. Xiong has started to act?You can't hear the intersection of gold and iron and the ejection of bows and arrows, only the slight creak of horseshoes stepping on the broken ice. They circled in silence to the south slope, which was the convenient way up the mountain.Jon saw the dead horse at the bottom of the knoll, half buried in the snow, its intestines protruding from its belly like a frozen snake, with a leg gone.Wolves did it, Jon thought at first, and then saw that it was wrong, wolves would eat their prey. More horse corpses were scattered on the hillside, their legs and feet twisted strangely, and their eyes opened blankly.The wildlings clung to them like flies, stripped saddles, bridles, packs, and armor, etc., and cut them open with stone axes. "Up," Rattleshirt told Jon, "Mance's at the top." They dismounted outside the ring wall and squeezed their way through twisted passages among the stones.A shaggy brown warhorse was poked on one of the sharpened stakes that the bear had placed in every entrance.The horse wanted to rush out, not to break in.There was no sign of the rider. More horse carcasses and worse awaited him inside—Jon had never seen pink snow.Shuofeng surged around, tugging at the thick white sheepskin cloak, and crows flapped their wings and flew back and forth among the dead horses.Is this a wild crow or our letter crow?Jon couldn't judge.He wondered where poor Sam was now, and what he had become. The frozen blood crunched and shattered under the boots.The wildlings stripped every scrap of steel and hide from the carcass, even the hoofs.Some were rummaging through packages for weapons and food.Jon passed one of Chett's dogs, or what was left of it, still alive in a pool of muddy, half-frozen blood. Some of the tents still stood at the far end of the camp, and there they found Mance Rayder.Beneath his black woolen cloak, mended in red silk, he wore black ringmail and breeches of rough fur. On his head he wore a great helm of brass and iron adorned with raven wings.Jarl and Harma the Doghead were with him, and Styr was there, and Varamyr the Sixshapes and his wolf and shadow lynx. Mance looked at Jon darkly and coldly, "What's wrong with your face?" Ygritte said, "Oriel wants to goug his eyes." "I'm asking him. Did he lose his tongue? Maybe he should, so he won't lie to us again." Steele Magna drew out his long dagger, "This kid doesn't need both eyes, it might be more sensible to keep one." "Do you want to keep your eyes open, Jon?" asked the King Beyond the Wall. "If you do, tell me how many of them there are. Try to tell the truth this time, you bastard of Winterfell." Jon's throat was dry, "My lord...how..." "I'm no grown-up," said Mance, "and the 'how' is all too clear. Your brothers are dead, and I ask you, how many are there?" Jon's face throbbed, and it was hard to think quietly as the snow kept falling.No matter what you are asked to do, you are not allowed to disobey, but do everything, this is Colin's order.The words stuck in his throat, he forced himself to say it, "There are three hundred of us." "Us?" Mance asked sharply. "They...they have three hundred people." No matter what you are asked to do...this is clearly an order from Halfhand, but why do I feel so cowardly? "Two hundred from Castle Black, and a hundred from the Shadow Tower." "The story you told in my tent is different." Mance looked at the dog-headed Harma. "How many horses did you find?" "More than a hundred," the big woman replied, "nearly two hundred. There are still dead horses in the east, under the snow, and I didn't count them." Behind her stood her flag-bearer, holding a pole with a dog's head, The dog's head was fresh enough to ooze blood. "You shouldn't have lied to me, Jon Snow," Mance said. "I...I understand." How else can I say it? The King Beyond the Wall looked at his face carefully, "Who is the head here? Honestly, Lake? Smallwood? Wellers? No, he's too weak... whose tent is this?" I have said too much. "You didn't find his body?" Harma snorted contemptuously, and sprayed frosty air from his nostrils, "Stupid crow!" "If you answer with questions again, I'll hand you over to the Lord of Bones," Mance Rayder assured Jon as he walked over. "Who's in charge here?" One step closer, Jon thought, one step closer.He reached for the hilt of Longclaw's sword.as long as i don't say... "Dare to draw the sword, I will knock your bastard's head off before it is unsheathed," Mance said, "I'm about to lose patience with you, crow." "Speak," Ygritte urged, "whoever it is is dead anyway." He frowned, a gash on his cheek.This is too difficult, Jon thought desperately, but if you want to play a chameleon, how can you not be a chameleon?Colin didn't tell him how to do it, but the second step was easier than the first. "Old Bear." "The old man himself?" Harmo didn't believe it. "Really? Who is in command of Castle Black?" "Bowen Marsh," Jon answered immediately this time.No matter what you are asked to do, you are not allowed to disobey, and do everything. Mance laughed. "If that's the case, then we've won without a fight. Bowen is better at counting swords than with swords." "Old Bear himself sits here," Jon said. "The terrain was already steep and strong, but he continued to strengthen his defenses, set up traps, planted stakes, and stored fresh water to deal with..." "...Me?" Mance finished for him. "Hmph, he had a good idea. If I'm stupid enough to attack, at least five to one casualties, that's lucky." He pursed his lips. "But when the dead are infested, ring walls and stakes and swords mean nothing. A man can't fight the dead, Jon Snow, and no one knows that better than I." He looked up into the darkening sky, "The crows seem to be doing us a great favor inadvertently, and I've been wondering why the party wasn't attacked. Well, there's a hundred leagues to go, and it's getting colder. Varamyr, send your wolves Sniff, track the wights in case they sneak up. Lord of Bones, double your patrols and make sure everyone has torches and flint and steel. Stey, Jarl, you go out at dawn." "Mance," said Rattleshirt, "I want this crow's bone." Ygritte stepped forward and blocked Jon, "He just protected his brother from the past, you can't kill him for that." "I see he still thinks of them as brothers," Steele declared. "No," Ygritte insisted, "he didn't kill me as they ordered, but he killed Halfhand, and everyone knows." Jon's breath frosted the air.I can't hide it from him.He looked into Mance Rayder's eyes and opened and closed his burned fingers. "I wear the cloak you gave me, my lord." “一件羊皮斗篷！”耶哥蕊特道，“每天夜里，我们都在它底下跳舞！” 贾尔咧嘴大笑，狗头哈犸也讪笑起来。“是这样吗，琼恩·雪诺？”曼斯·雷德温和地问，“她和你？” 长城之外难辩是非。琼恩不知自己还能不能区分荣誉与耻辱，正确和错误。愿天父原谅我。 "Yes," he said. 曼斯点点头，“很好，那你俩明天跟贾尔和斯迪一起出发，参加行动。我绝不会把两颗跳动如一的心分开。” “我们去哪里？”琼恩问。 “去长城。是你证明忠诚的时候了，行胜于言，琼恩·雪诺。” 马格拿不大高兴。“我要个乌鸦做什么？” “他不仅了解守夜人，了解长城，”曼斯说，“而且对黑城堡的熟悉程度超过你手下任何一个掠袭者。你会发现他的用处，否则你就是个笨蛋。” 斯迪皱起眉头，“我认为他是个黑心肝的家伙。” “是吗？到时候挖出来不就得了。”曼斯转向叮当衫。“骸骨之王，不惜一切代价保持队伍的行进速度，只要赶在莫尔蒙之前抵达长城，我们便胜券在握。” “是，”叮当衫含糊而恼怒地回答。 曼斯点头离开，哈犸和六形人瓦拉米尔紧跟上去，他的狼和影子山猫也走在后面。琼恩、耶哥蕊特、贾尔、叮当衫和马格拿留在原地。两个年长的野人用难以掩饰的恨意瞪着琼恩，而贾尔开口道：“你听到曼斯的吩咐了，我们天亮出发，多带食物，路上没时间打猎。还有啊，乌鸦，把脸料理料理，血淋淋的简直一团糟。” “我会的，”琼恩答应。 “你千万别撒谎，小妹妹，”叮当衫恶狠狠地对耶哥蕊特说，眼睛在巨人头骨后闪闪发光。 琼恩拔出长爪，“离我们远点，否则科林的下场就是榜样！” “现在可没有狼护着你，小子。”叮当衫摸向自己的剑。 “哦，你很肯定哟？”耶哥蕊特笑道。 白灵正蹲伏在环墙顶端，雪白的毛发直立。他没发出半点声音，只是睁大血红的眼睛。骸骨之王缓缓放开剑柄，退后一步诅咒着走了。 随后，琼恩和耶哥蕊特骑下先民拳峰，白灵在旁跟随。“我不要你为我撒谎，”走到乳河中央，琼恩觉得安全了，方才开口道。 “我没撒谎，”她说，“只是没说完整。” “你说——” “——每天夜里，我们都在你的斗篷底下作爱。是的，我没说从什么时候开始。”她有些羞赧地朝他笑笑。“今晚给白灵找个别的地方睡吧，琼恩·雪诺，诚如曼斯所说，行胜于言。”