Chapter 47 Chapter 46: Samwell

White Tree Village, Sam thought; please, this is White Tree Village. —He remembered Baishu Village, Baishu Village was on the ancient map he found, and he passed by on the way north; if this village was Baishu Village, he knew where they were.Please, this must be Baishu Village.The desire was so strong that he even temporarily forgot about his feet, the pain in his calves and lower back, his fingers that were almost frozen to the point of unconsciousness, Lord Commander Mormont, Craster, wights and White Walkers .In Baishu Village, Sam murmured a prayer, no matter what god was willing to listen.

All wildling villages look alike, however.A huge weirwood grew in the middle of the village—but a white tree doesn't mean Whitetree Village, and is the weirwood in Whitetree bigger than this one? Maybe he remembered wrongly.The long, mournful face was carved in the bone-white trunk, and the sap oozed from its eyes and froze like red tears.Did it look like this when we went up north? Sam couldn't remember. Around the tree stood a few thatched-roof single houses, a long wooden hall covered with moss, a stone well, and a sheepfold...but there were no sheep, let alone people.The wildlings all went to Frostfang, joined Mance Rayder, and took everything with them except the house itself, for which Sam was grateful.Night was coming, and he could finally sleep under the roof again.He was so tired; what seemed like half his life's walking, his boots were coming off in pieces, all the blisters on his feet had burst and turned into calluses, new blisters had formed under the calluses, and chilblains had begun on his toes.

But Sam knew that if he didn't go, there would only be a dead end.Gilly was still weak after giving birth; still holding the baby, she needed the horse more than he did.The other died on the third day after leaving Custer Fort.Poor thing, Bentzer was half starved, and it was a miracle he lasted so long, maybe it was Sam's weight that broke him.They could try to share a horse, but he worried that the same thing would happen again.My fat man is better off walking. Sam asked Gilly to stay in the long hall to light the fire, while he went to explore the nearby cabins.She was better at making fire than he was, and he never seemed to be able to light wood himself, and once he tried to strike sparks out of iron and stone and was cut by his own dagger.After Gilly had bandaged him, the fingers were stiff and sore, clumsier than ever.He knew it was time to clean the wound and change the bandages, but he was afraid to see the wound.Besides, it was so cold; he hated taking off his gloves.

Sam didn't know what he might find in the house.Maybe the savages left some food behind, so we'll have to take a look.On the way north, Jon was assigned the task of searching the house in White Tree Village.In one hut, Sam heard rats rustling in a dark corner, but there was nothing but dry straw and stale smells and charcoal under the smoke vents. He returned to the weirwood and studied the carved face for a moment.This was not the face he had seen before, he admitted, and the tree was not half the size of the one in Baishu Village.Bloody sap oozes from its red eyes, and he doesn't remember that from the old one.But anyway, Sam fumbled to his knees. "Old gods, please hear my prayers. The Seven are my father's gods, but when I joined the Night's Watch, I swore my oath in front of you. Please help, we are cold and hungry, very Might still get lost. I—I don't know what gods to believe in right now, but...if you really exist, please help us, Gilly just had a baby." That was all he could come up with.As the night darkened, the weirwood leaves rustled slightly, as if a thousand bloody hands were waving.Did Jon's gods hear his prayers? It's not clear.

When they returned to the long hall, Gilly had already lit the fire.She leaned close to the fire, opened the hide, and let the baby suck on her breast.He's as hungry as grown men, Sam thought.The old women brought some food from the cellars of Craster's Keep, but it was mostly gone now, and even in Horn Hill, even in the southern homeland where there was plenty of game and slaves and hounds to drive, Sam was a Useless hunters; the chances of catching anything are naturally slim in this open forest.He tried, as expected, to poke fish in lakes and half-frozen creeks, and failed miserably. "How much longer, Sam?" asked Gilly. "Is it far?"

"Not too far. At least not as far as it used to be." Sam shrugged off the pack and sat awkwardly on the floor, trying to cross his legs.Walking caused his back to ache, and he wanted to lean on a carved wooden pillar supporting the roof, but the fire was under the smoke vent in the center of the long hall. After measuring it, he still felt warmer than comfortable, "In a few days We'll be there." Sam had maps, but they were of no use if this wasn't Whitetree Village.We went too far east to get around this lake, he thought anxiously, or too far west when we turned back? He began to hate lakes and rivers. There are no ferries and bridges beyond the Great Wall, forcing you to take a long detour. circle, or look for shallows to wade in.Besides, following the hunter's trail is easier than struggling through the bush, and it is easier to go around the ridge than to climb, which is the only option outside the Great Wall.Well, if Balen or Devon had been with us, we would be at Castle Black by now, warming our feet in the Great Hall.It's a pity that Baron died, and Devon left with Grant, the melancholy Eddie and others.

The Great Wall was three hundred miles long and seven hundred feet high, Sam reminded himself.If you kept going south, you'd come across it sooner or later—and they were, at least that's what he was sure of.During the day, they can tell the direction according to the sun, and on a clear night, they can follow the tail of the ice dragon constellation, although since the death of another horse, they rarely travel at night.It was too dark in the woods, even on a full moon, and Sam or the last horse could easily break his leg.We must be far south, we must be. But he wasn't sure how far they had strayed west or east.It will eventually reach the Wall, yes... maybe a day, maybe half a month, it can't be longer, sure, sure... But where exactly? What you need to find is the gate of Castle Black, the only way to go through it along a hundred leagues.

"Is the Great Wall really as big as Custer says?" Gilly asked. "Bigger than he said," Sam tried to sound pleasant, "so big that you can't see the castle hidden behind it, and the castle itself is big enough, you'll see. The Great Wall is made entirely of ice, A castle of wood and stone, with high towers, deep cellars, and great halls with fires burning day and night in the hearths. It's hot, very warm, Gilly, so hot you can't believe it." "Can I stand by the fire? Just me and the kids? It won't be long, just to keep warm." "Stand as long as you want, and food and drink. Mulled wine, a bowl of venison stew with onions, and Hob's freshly baked bread, hot to the touch." Sam took off his gloves and stretched his fingers around the flames. ——he quickly regretted his actions, they were numb from the cold, and as consciousness returned, the pain made him almost cry. "Brothers sing sometimes," he said, to divert attention from the pain in his fingers, "and Dareon sang best, so they sent him to Eastwatch. But Hodder and 'Toad' —his real name is Todd, but he looks like a toad, so we call him that. He likes to sing, but he has a terrible voice."

"What about you? Do you sing or not?" Gilly adjusted the fur clothes and switched the baby to the other nipple. Sam blushed. "I... I know some songs. I liked to sing and dance when I was a child... But my father didn't like me singing and dancing. He said that if I want to jump around, I should go to the yard with a sword." "Can you sing a Southern song? For the kids?" "If you like." Sam thought for a while, "When I was a child, whenever my sisters and I went to bed, our monks would sing a 'Song of the Seven Gods'." He cleared his throat and sang softly:

The face of the Father is firm and strong, Adjudicating falsehood and administering justice, To determine the length of happiness and longevity, Kindness loves little children. Our Lady brings the blessing of life, Watch over every woman, Her smile ceases to fight, Gentle care for little ones. The warrior stands before the enemy, Defend us north and south east and west, Holding a bow and contradictory sword and weapon, Guard Zuoyou little child. The old woman is old and wise, Foretell the future of everyone, Hold up the golden lamp to shine brightly, Guide the way forward for little children.

The blacksmith works hard day and night, Arrange everything in order, The hammer bellows, the fire burns, Build the world for the little ones. Girls dance in the air, Stored in the lover's withdrawal of sentimentality, A frown teaches the bird to fly, Guan Meng entrusted to the little child. Seven gods created us, Always hear our prayers, Close your eyes, no more troubles, The gods watch over you, little child. Close your eyes, no more worries, The gods watch over you, little child. The last time Sam remembered singing it with his mother was to put baby Dickon to bed.My father broke in angrily after hearing this. "I won't let you do this again," Earl Randle said sternly to his wife. "You've ruined one of my boys with soft songs like repair soil, and you want to ruin another?" Then he looked at Sam, "Will you Sing, just to your sisters, and don't come near my son." Gilly's baby fell asleep.He was so small and so quiet that Sam worried a little.The kid doesn't even have a name.He asked Gilly, but she said it would bring bad luck to name a child before he was two.Many children died. She stuffed the nipples back into the hide. "It's beautiful, Sam, you sing very well." "You should hear Dareon, his voice is as sweet as mead." "The day Custer married me, we drank the sweetest mead. It was still summer and it wasn't so cold." Gilly was a little confused, "You only sang six gods? Custer often told We, you Southerners, have seven gods." "Seven," he agreed, "but no one sings of the Stranger." The Stranger's face was the face of death, and Sam felt uneasy at the mention of him. "We should have something to eat, just two mouthfuls." Nothing was left but the black sausage as hard as wood.Sam sawed off thin slices for each of them.His wrist hurts from exertion, but he was so hungry that he persisted.And with enough chewing, the slices are tender and tasty.It was pickled by Custer's wives in garlic. After eating, Sam said sorry to her, and went out to take care of the horses.A bitter wind was blowing from the north, and the leaves rustled against him as he passed under the bushes.He had to break up the thin ice on the river so the horses could drink.I'd better take it into the house.He didn't want to wake up in the morning to find their horses had froze to death in the night.Even if an accident does happen, Gilly will keep going.The girl was brave, not like him.He wished he knew what to do with her when he returned to Castle Black.She always said that as long as he was happy, he would be his wife, but the brother in black couldn't marry a wife, not to mention that he was a Tully from Horn Hill, so he couldn't marry a female wildling at all.I have to figure out a way.But first we have to get to the Great Wall alive, and nothing else matters, not at all. It was easy to lead the horse to the long hall, but difficult to lead the horse through the door. Fortunately, Sam persevered.By the time the mount was brought into the house, Gilly had fallen asleep.He tied the horse in a corner, and adding some fresh wood to the fire, he took off his heavy cloak and went to the wild woman under the hide.His cloak was big enough to cover them and keep them warm. Gilly smelled of milk, and of garlic and musty old fur, but he was used to it and found it pleasant.He liked to spit next to her, and it reminded him of sharing a big bed with his two sisters in Horn Hill long ago.Lord Randle thought it would make him as weak as a girl, and ended the situation.However, sleeping alone in a cold room didn't make me strong and brave. He didn't know what he would say if he saw his father now.I killed ten White Walkers, my lord, he pretended to say, and I stabbed him with the dragonglass dagger.The sworn brethren now call me "The Killer" Sam.But even in his imagination Lord Randyll frowned suspiciously. The dream that night was very strange.He dreamed that he was back at Horn Hill, but his father was gone, and it was Sam's castle.Jon Snow was with him, and the Sentinel, and old Lord Commander Mormont, and Grenn, and sad Eddie, and Pyp, and Toad, and all the brethren of the Night's Watch, only in brightly colored clothes, not black.Sam sits at the high table and feeds them all, slices of roast with his father's great sword Heartbroken, and there are sweet cakes and mead wine and singing and dancing and everyone is warm.After the feast he went upstairs to bed, not to his parents' manor house, but to the room where he had been with his sisters.It's just that it wasn't his sisters waiting for him on that soft and wide bed, but Gilly. The girl was only wrapped in a rough animal skin, and her breasts leaked milk. He woke up suddenly, cold and scared.The fire burned out, leaving only dark red embers.The air was freezing, and it felt extremely cold.In the corner, the horse neighed and kicked the log, and Gilly sat by the fire, cradling the baby.Sam sat up staggeringly, pale wheezing from his mouth.The long hall was filled with black shadows, and the hairs on the arms stood on end. Nothing, he told himself, just cold. At this time, there was a shadow moving by the door, a huge shadow. It's still a dream, Sam prayed, oh!I'm still sleeping and still having nightmares.He died, he died, I saw him die. "He came for the boy," sobbed Gilly, "he smelled him, the newborn baby, full of life. He came for life. Huge shadows stooped before the door beams into the hall, shambling along, by the dim firelight.The shadow became little Paul. "Go away," Sam yelled, "we don't need you." Paul's hands were as black as coal, his face was as white as milk, and his eyes shone with a cold blue light.Frost had whitened its beard, and a crow was sitting on one shoulder, pecking at its cheek, eating the dead white flesh.Sam peed his pants, warm water running down his thighs. "Gilly, soothe the horse and lead it out. You go." "You—" she began. "I have a dagger. Have you forgotten? The dragonglass dagger." He stood up and fumbled it out.Grenn had given that one earlier, but thankfully he had remembered to take Lord Lord Commander Mormont's dagger with him when he left Craster's Keep.He held it tight, away from the fire, away from Gilly and the baby. "Paul?" he tried to sound brave, but the words screamed, "Little Paul. Do you know me? I'm Sam, Fat Sam, Cowardly Sam, you saved me in the woods. I can't When I go, you hug me, no one else can but you." Sam stepped back, weapon in hand, sobbing.I'm such a hopeless coward. "Don't hurt us, Paul, please, why hurt us?" Gilly struggled back on the hard mud.The wight turned to look at her, but Sam yelled, "No," and it turned back. The crow on its shoulder tore a strip of flesh from its broken, pale cheek. Sam held his dagger in front of him, breathing like a blacksmith's bellows. Long Across the hall, Gilly came to the horse. The gods give me courage, Sam prayed, just this once, give me a little courage, until she escapes. Little Paul closed in on him, and Sam backed away until his back was against the rough wooden wall.He grasped the dagger with both hands for greater stability.The ghoul doesn't seem afraid of dragonglass, maybe it doesn't know what it is.It moved slowly, but little Paul was not agile when he was alive.Behind it, Gilly whispered soothingly to the horse and tried to urge it toward the door, but the horse must have picked up a whiff of the eerie chill of a wight.It stopped abruptly and stood up, its hoofs flailing in the freezing air.Paul turned to the direction of the voice, seemingly losing all interest in Sam. No time to think, pray, or be afraid.Samwell Tarly rushed forward, driving the dagger into little Paul's back.The ghoul's body had already turned halfway, and he didn't even notice him coming.The crow screamed and flew into the air. "You're dead!" Sam screamed as he stabbed, "You're dead, you're dead!" Clear the way.The iron mail mail under the wool cloth shattered when the blade touched it, and shards of dragonglass flew in all directions. Sam shrieked, and the white mist melted into the darkness.Little Paul turned around, and Sam dropped the useless handle of the knife, taking a quick step back.But before he could draw the other dagger, the steel dagger worn by every brother, the ghoul's black hands caught his chin.Paul's fingers were scorchingly cold, digging deep into the soft flesh of Sam's throat.Run, Gilly, run, he wanted to shout, but when he opened his mouth, there was only a choking sound. His fingers finally found the dagger, and he blindly poked it at the ghoul's stomach, but the tip of the knife only grazed the iron ring, and the entire dagger spun and flew out due to too much force.Little Paul's fingers tightened mercilessly and began to twist.He's going to take my head off, Sam thought desperately.His throat seemed to be frozen, but his lungs were on fire.He beat and pulled at the wight's wrists and kicked Paul in the genitals in vain, to no avail.The world shrinks to two points of blue stars, a terrible pain, and a cold that freezes the tears.Sam writhed and struggled...and fell forward. Little Paul was big and strong, but Sam was heavier, and wights were clumsy, as he had seen on the Fist of the First Men.The sudden change made Paul take a staggering step back, and the living and the dead fell together.With the impact, a hand was released from Sam's throat, and he was able to take a quick breath before the cold black fingers came back.The taste of blood filled his mouth.He turned his neck, looking for the dagger, but saw only a dull orange glow.Fire! Although there were only ashes left, but... he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think... dragged Paul to struggle and twist sideways... his arms waved on the mud, groped, searched, scattered the ashes, and found something hot …a piece of charred charcoal, dim red and orange flickering in the black… He grasped it with his fingers and stuffed it into Paul’s mouth with all his strength, even feeling the shattering of Paul’s teeth. Still, the ghoul's grip didn't loosen.The last thing Sam thinks about is his loving mother and his failed father.The hall swirled around, a wisp of smoke rising from between Paul's shattered teeth.Then, the face of the dead man was on fire, and the hands were released. Sam gasped and rolled weakly aside.The wight was burning, frost dripping from his beard, charring the flesh beneath.Sam heard the crow shriek, but Paul himself did not, its mouth open and flames came out, and its eyes were... gone, the blue flash gone. He climbed to the door.The air was so cold it hurt to breathe, but what a wonderful pain it was.He bowed his head and walked out of the long hall. "Gilly?" he said, "Gilly, I killed it. Ji--" She stood against the weirwood, with the child in her arms, surrounded by ghouls, a dozen...twenty, more...some were wildlings, still in hides...but many more were his brother.Sam sees "Sisterboy" Lark, "Softfoot" Riels.The wart on Chett's neck was black, and the boil on his cheek was covered with a thin layer of ice.One of the ghouls looked like Huck, but with half his head missing, he couldn't be sure.They had torn the poor horse apart, ripping out the intestines with bloody hands, pale steam rising from the horse's belly. Sam whimpered, "It's not fair..." "Fair," the crow landed on his shoulder, "fair, far away, fear.)" (Note: The three words fair far fear in English (sounds close to fair, far away, and fear.) It flapped its wings and walked with Gilly. Screaming. The wight was almost at her when he heard the dark red leaves of the weirwood whirling and whispering to each other as if in a language he didn't understand. The stars streamed and the trees all around groaned and creaked. Sam Tarly's face was curdled milk, eyes wide as plates. Crows! Crows! There were thousands of crows on the weirwood, perched on bony pale branches, peering out from among the leaves. Their jaws opened Hissing, spreading black wings, shrieking and flapping, they came upon the ghouls like a cloud of anger. They circled Chett's face, pecked at his blue eyes; There were lumps coming out of the shattered skulls. There were so many crows that Sam couldn't see the moon when he looked up. "Go," said the crow on the shoulder, "go, go, go." Sam started running, and white mist spewed from his mouth.Around him, the ghouls staggered under the attack of black wings and sharp beaks, and fell in strange silence, without screams or groans.But the crows paid no attention to Sam.He took Gilly's hand and pulled her away from the weirwood. "Let's go." "Where are you going?" Gilly followed quickly with the baby in her arms. "They killed our horses, what shall we do?" "Brother!" the cry pierced the night, piercing the neighing of a thousand crows.Under the bushes, a man rode a deer, wrapped from head to toe in black and gray mottled clothes. "Come!" cried the rider, his face hidden by the hood. He is dressed in black.So Sam urged Gilly to come to him.The elk deer was huge and terrible, its shoulders were ten feet above the ground, and its forked horns were almost ten feet wide.It gets down on its knees; let them ride on, "Come on," said the rider, holding out his gloved hand and pulling Gilly behind him, and then it was Sam's turn. "Thank you." He gasped.But when he took the outstretched hand, he suddenly realized that the rider was not wearing gloves.His hands were black and cold, and his fingers were as hard as rocks.