GOT/ASOIAF: Ruler Beyond the Ice

Aegor was stunned, completely and utterly stunned. It was even more shocking than when he had seen Bran fall from the tower in the novel or the series. This event wasn't supposed to happen. He racked his brain trying to recall if Benjen had encountered any such attack while returning to the Wall from Winterfell.

Was it deliberate? Did Jaime and Cersei send someone to assassinate him? Or had the Starks discovered the truth about him and dispatched men to capture him?

No, it didn't make sense.

Aegor only froze for a second before his instincts as a soldier kicked in. With a sharp clang, he drew his steel sword and moved to guard Tyrion before his two Lannister guards could even react. This short Lannister was his best ticket out of the Wall. He shouted, "My lord, hide quickly!"

"Benjen, get out here! I'll cover you!" yelled a recruit, who was struck by an arrow in the shoulder and collapsed, screaming in pain.

Yoren shoved a skinning knife into the hands of another terrified recruit and bellowed, "If you don't want to die, stick with me!"

The flap of the tent flew open, and Benjen Stark emerged, weapon in hand. Shadows charged out of the surrounding darkness with fierce cries. Arrows and rocks flew sporadically through the air. Benjen quickly assessed the attackers and barked, "It's wildlings! To the horses—no, it's too late! Everyone fall back to the stone wall and prepare to fight!"

Tyrion's two guards instinctively obeyed Benjen's command, abandoning any thought of waiting for orders from their panicked lord. The group of nine huddled against the old stone wall beside the tent. They formed a defensive circle, with a wounded recruit and Tyrion protected in the center. Faces grim and tense, they prepared to meet the wildlings head-on.

"Aren't the wildlings supposed to stay north of the Wall?" Tyrion crouched behind Aegor and Jon Snow, cowering with no trace of noble dignity.

Aegor, after identifying the enemy, felt a wave of relief. Jon, however, was practically buzzing with excitement at the chance to prove himself. The two Lannister guards, despite their full armor, appeared less than competent. Only one of them seemed to have any real combat experience.

"No one told me the North was this dangerous!" Tyrion complained.

"Small bands of wildlings sometimes cross the Wall," Aegor replied, "but they rarely venture this deep into the Wolfswood—"

"Do you have anything I can use as a weapon?" Tyrion interrupted, his voice rising. "I don't even have a knife to defend myself!"

"No time for that!" Jon hissed. "They're coming!"

There were no banners or war cries, no drums or horns. The wildlings charged at them with crude weapons—sticks, stone-tipped spears, and dull axes. Aegor didn't see a single proper blade among them.

One of Tyrion's guards let loose an arrow, striking a shadowy figure and sending him stumbling back with a scream. But despite their ragged appearance and poor armaments, the wildlings' boldness in attacking such a small, well-armed group baffled Aegor.

Before he could dwell on it, the attackers were upon them. The wildlings were as bedraggled as they seemed, emaciated figures clad in scraps of mismatched leather and ill-fitting armor. Most had no helmets, and their weapons were laughable.

The Night's Watch braced for a bloody battle. But within moments, Aegor realized something was off. The wildlings weren't pressing their attack. They stopped two meters short, yelling and brandishing their weapons as if trying to intimidate rather than kill.

Some wildlings, women among them, darted past the skirmish and began looting the camp. A woman even snatched up the half-skinned squirrel Yoren had been preparing.

Jon surged forward, eager to prove himself. His strikes landed on a wildling's wooden shield, leaving only shallow cuts. Benjen quickly called him back, unwilling to risk his nephew in the chaotic melee.

The wildlings weren't fighting to kill. They were here for supplies.

As the two sides clashed, it became apparent that the wildlings' true objective lay elsewhere. Yoren was the first to notice. He shouted, "They're after the horses!"

Benjen whirled around and spotted wildlings cutting the ropes tethering the horses. His face darkened with fury. Horses were more precious than gold to the Night's Watch. "Stop them!" he roared.

Aegor and Yoren responded immediately, charging forward with Benjen to scatter the disorganized wildlings. Jon and one of the Lannister guards, a man named Jack, followed closely behind. The tide of the skirmish shifted. Benjen felled one wildling in a single swing, and the rest broke and fled, scattering like frightened animals.

Some threw down their weapons as they vanished into the darkness. Aegor had seen this scene before. Wildlings often fled this way when pursued by rangers. Only those foolish enough to resist met steel and death.

"Don't pursue!" Benjen's voice rang out. "Secure the horses!"

Three Night's Watchmen charged toward the horses. The wildlings had already cut many of the ropes, and several horses were being driven or ridden away. The sight enraged Aegor. These horses were donations from Northern lords, and as members of the Night's Watch, they might one day rely on them to survive beyond the Wall.

As the men approached, the nearest horse thief shouted a warning to his companions before fleeing into the woods. The rest followed, abandoning the remaining horses in their haste.

Back at the camp, chaos reigned. The iron pot of broth had been shot through, spilling its contents into the dirt. Loaves of bread were gone, the dead squirrel had been stolen, and even an iron spoon was missing. Small, insignificant items had been taken, leaving the camp in disarray.

"Why did they take my book?" Tyrion raged, his voice shrill with indignation. "A book! Do wildlings even know how to read? I borrowed that from the Winterfell library!"

"They probably don't know what a book is," Aegor replied dryly. "It's square, so they grabbed it. Odds are they'll use it for kindling or to wipe their asses."

Yoren, his face stormy, growled, "Eight horses are gone."

"Which means we still have fourteen," Benjen said, though his tone was grim. With only three men armed and trained to fight, chasing the wildlings into the woods would be too dangerous. There could be an ambush waiting. After a moment of deliberation, he sighed and shook his head. "No, we won't chase them."

The attack ended as abruptly as it began.

For Aegor, this was his fourth encounter with wildlings since joining the Night's Watch. But it was the first time he had been on the defensive. Like the previous encounters, the Night's Watch suffered no fatalities.

The disparity in skill and discipline between trained soldiers and desperate peasants was as vast as the gap between wolves and sheep. Theoretically, the wildlings could have overwhelmed them with numbers, but fear and disorganization made them easy to rout.

The final toll was three wildlings dead and no losses among the Night's Watch, save for a recruit wounded by a crude arrow. The injury was shallow, thanks to the poor quality of the arrowhead.

For Jon, Tyrion, and the Lannister guards, it was a triumphant victory. For Aegor, it was a reminder of how precarious survival was in the North. But for Benjen, it was a humiliation. Nearly one-tenth of Castle Black's horses had been stolen by wildlings, a loss far greater than any material goods.

Yet the attack signaled something far more troubling. The wildlings were fleeing south, and the situation beyond the Wall was worsening. A patrol would need to be sent soon to uncover the truth.

*****

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