"He's comin'," Ulf muttered beneath his breath, though it was loud enough for Haldor, Torren, and Maera to hear.
The three immediately abandoned what they were doing inside their concealed hideout and followed Ulf's gaze toward the forest. Not far away, emerging from behind the dense trees, was Ivar. He steadily made his way up the mountainside, his footsteps rustling through the bushes and snapping the scattered branches they had deliberately laid around the hideout to warn them if anyone approached.
The moment Haldor recognized him, he hurried toward the entrance of their hideout, pushing aside the carefully arranged branches, bushes, and leaves that concealed it.
"Oi! Ivar!" he shouted, waving enthusiastically. "Ye made it back!"
Ulf watched the carefully disguised entrance fall apart before letting out a helpless sigh. "Yer rebuildin' the entrance cover by yerself, Haldor."
Only then did Haldor realize what he had done.
"...Sorry," he muttered sheepishly before turning toward Torren. "How about givin' me a hand, Torren?"
When Torren heard his name, he glanced at Haldor for a brief moment, then deliberately looked away as though he had heard nothing. Without saying a word, he walked back toward the fire and casually tossed another piece of firewood onto the flames.
Maera could not help but chuckle at the exchange before quietly following Torren back inside the hideout to continue cooking their breakfast.
Haldor let out an exaggerated sigh before turning his attention back to Ivar, who had nearly reached them.
Having heard the entire exchange from some distance away, Ivar could only shake his head inwardly. Haldor truly had a remarkable talent for creating extra work with the simplest of actions.
Once he reached the entrance of their current hideout, which was just a densely packed set of big stones that is hollow inside, his gaze swept across between Ulf and Haldor before he asked, "Everyone accounted fer?"
"Aye," Ulf replied with a nod. His eyes carefully searched Ivar from head to toe for any sign of injury. Only after confirming that his friend had returned unharmed did he visibly relax. They could not afford for Ivar to be injured. Looking back at him, Ulf asked, "What took ye so long? We saw the havoc ye caused in the settlement last night before we left and came here."
Ivar gently pushed past the two of them and stepped inside the hideout before answering. "Had t' lead them away first before circlin' back here. Took me quite a while t' shake 'em off."
He nodded to Torren and Maera in greeting before his eyes settled on Haldor, who was still standing at the entrance.
"What're ye standin' there fer?" he asked. "Start coverin' the entrance before someone spots us."
That immediately snapped Haldor back to his senses.
"I'm already on it!" he replied before hurrying down the mountainside in search of more branches, bushes, and leaves to better conceal the entrance.
Satisfied, Ivar finally accepted the wooden bowl of hot water Maera had prepared for him. He drank it in a few long gulps before asking for another. Only after quenching his thirst did he lower the empty bowl and turn toward Ulf, who had taken a seat beside him.
"What happened while I was away?" he asked. "No one followed ye back here, right?"
Ulf shook his head. "Nay. We made it back here without any trouble, and we were careful to cover our tracks. I'm fairly certain no one followed us."
"That's good," Ivar replied with a satisfied nod.
The conversation came to an end as Maera finished preparing their breakfast. They gathered around the fire and quietly ate their meal. Even Haldor, who had just finished repairing the camouflage concealing the entrance to their hideout, said very little as he hurried over and eagerly dug into his food.
Once everyone had finished eating, Torren rose to his feet and stretched before looking toward Ivar.
"So, where're we headin' now?" he asked curiously. "Are we goin' back? We've already found Jorund's settlement. Shouldn't we gather our people, join forces with Alfyn, and finally fight him?"
Ivar slowly shook his head. Having eaten more than usual, he began strolling around the hideout to help settle the food in his stomach before answering. "Nay. We're headin' south instead."
His companions immediately turned their attention toward him.
"I want t' speak with the Lord Commander o' the crows first." A faint smile appeared on his face. "I'm curious how much information about Jorund's settlement is worth. If the price is good enough, we might even throw in Sylas's settlement as well."
Torren frowned at that. "So we're not fightin' Jorund?"
"Course not," Ivar replied, shaking his head. "Did ye see how big his settlement was? We don't even know exactly how many warriors he has. We'd be fools t' fight him head-on. Better t' make him suffer some losses first before we engage him ourselves. The crows'll be useful fer that, and who knows... if we're lucky, Jorund and Sylas might even start fightin' each other again and suffer some losses."
Torren looked disappointed, but after giving it some thought, he realized Ivar was right. Charging headlong into a settlement that vastly outnumbered them would be nothing short of suicide. With that in mind, he simply nodded and said nothing more.
Ulf spoke up from the side. "But Alfyn was the one who found Sylas's settlement. Wouldn't he expect t' receive whatever we get fer that information?"
Ivar chuckled. "He'll never know unless one o' ye tells him, right?"
Seeing the looks on their faces, he smiled and continued, "Besides, I'm not sayin' we'll keep everythin'. We can always give Alfyn a share o' whatever we receive. After all, he did the hard work o' findin' Sylas."
"Right..." Ulf replied with a wry smile. "That sounds more like ye."
After walking around for several minutes, Ivar finally felt comfortable enough to travel again. He glanced toward Haldor, who was still trying to convince Maera to give him another serving.
"Finish yer food, Haldor," he said. "We'll start movin' once Maera finishes tidyin' up."
Haldor's mouth was so full that he could only nod vigorously before stuffing the last of the food on his wooden plate into his mouth, determined not to be the one delaying their departure this time.
After Ivar gave the order to pack up, Maera immediately began tidying their campsite. She cleaned the cooking pot with handfuls of snow before packing it away alongside the wooden plates, which she had already wiped clean in the same manner. Once everything had been packed and no trace of their meal remained, the group quietly filed out of their hideout.
Standing just outside the concealed entrance, Ivar lifted his head and studied the position of the sun through the gaps in the trees. After determining the direction of the south, he gave a small nod and led the others onward, beginning the next leg of their journey.
They managed to cover only thirty leagues on the first day. Since it was their first time traveling through this part of the Haunted Forest, they proceeded cautiously, taking care not to lose their bearings or wander into unfamiliar territory. During their previous journey south, they had traveled much farther west, whereas their current route lay farther east. Along the way, they encountered several large Free Folk settlements, forcing them to make wide detours to avoid being discovered. Ivar found it somewhat surprising that none of those clans had yet been subjugated by either Jorund or Sylas, but he chose not to dwell on the matter and instead focused on leading the group onward.
By the second day, they had become more accustomed to the terrain and managed to travel nearly fifty leagues. Throughout the journey, Ivar periodically stopped to sketch their route onto a beastskin map, carefully recording the landscape and notable landmarks. Although the map covered only the narrow path they had taken rather than the surrounding region, it was still valuable. Every journey expanded his understanding of the lands, and eventually, those scattered routes would form a much more complete map of the Haunted Forest, or perhaps the whole map beyond the wall.
It was on the third day that they finally caught sight of the Wall in the distance. Even from so far away, the colossal barrier of ice towered above the surrounding wilderness, dominating the horizon. Ulf, Haldor, and Torren could not take their eyes off the magnificent sight. It was, after all, the first time any of them had laid eyes on the Wall. Their awestruck expressions lingered until Ivar walked over and smacked each of them lightly on the back of the head, snapping them out of their daze. Only then did he instruct them to search the surrounding area for a suitable campsite before nightfall. It did not take long for them to find a defensible location, and they immediately began setting up camp. Torren and Haldor took it upon themselves to scout the surrounding area for nearly twenty leagues in every direction, hoping to identify any potential dangers before darkness settled over the forest. Watching everyone move about without needing to be told what to do, Ivar allowed himself a faint smile. While Maera busied herself preparing their evening meal and Ulf secured the campsite, he finally lay back inside his makeshift tent, satisfied that he no longer had to bark orders just to get everyone moving.
The following day, they turned west while keeping the Wall within sight. Since they had traveled farther east than during Ivar's first previous journey, they now needed to follow the Wall westward until they could find Castle Black, where they had last traded Edric the crow.
As they made their way along its immense length, Ivar carefully observed each gate they passed. Most were far smaller than the one at Castle Black and appeared rarely used. They also took great care to avoid every group of Free Folk they spotted in the distance. Ivar had no desire to become involved in needless conversations or unnecessary fights when his only objective was to reach Castle Black. At one point, they even came across a large band of wildlings gathering ropes, hooks, and other climbing gear in preparation for scaling the Wall. Even then, Ivar simply led his companions on a wide detour, choosing caution over curiosity. Part of him wanted to stay and watch them climb the Wall, but he had no intention of delaying their journey any further. From what his Ma and Pa had once told him, it could take more than an entire day to scale the Wall, and he simply did not have that kind of time to spare.
It took them another day and a half of traveling west before they finally reached the gate that Ivar immediately recognized as the one leading to Castle Black.
As they stopped to rest, Haldor could not help but ask, "What are we goin' t' do now, Ivar? Are we just gonna wait here fer the crows t' come?"
"'Course not," Ivar replied as he studied the gate in the distance. "We'll build a large smoke fire, enough fer them t' see it from the top o' the Wall. That's the signal their Lord Commander told me t' use if I ever had information worth tradin'. But we don't have t' do that today. We'll spend the rest o' the day restin' and make ourselves known on the morrow. It'll give us time t' recover and be better prepared in case somethin' goes wrong."
He turned his gaze away from the Wall and looked at his companions. "Let's make camp here, but no fires this time. If we light one now, they'll spot us before we're ready."
"Aye."
"Aye."
His companions nodded without hesitation and immediately began pitching their tents.
Ivar decided to scout the area around their campsite himself. He wanted to inspect the surroundings himself to make sure the location was truly secure, and more importantly, his stomach had been grumbling since earlier that day, leaving him in need of some privacy.
By the time he finished relieving himself and completed his inspection of the surrounding area, he was satisfied that there were no immediate dangers nearby. When he returned, his companions had already finished pitching not only their own tents but his as well. Maera was in the middle of handing out strips of jerky for their evening meal. The moment she saw him, she offered him a piece, which he accepted without hesitation before taking a hearty bite.
After checking that his tent had been properly set up, he turned to the others and said, "Torren, ye'll take the first watch. Ulf and Haldor, ye'll split the rest o' the night until mornin'. Maera, ye can rest as usual. Understood?"
None of them had any objections so they simply nodded in agreement, and Torren immediately departed to begin the first watch.
Satisfied that everything had been taken care of, Ivar stepped inside his tent, lay down on his bedroll, and was asleep before long.
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"Brandon, I need ye t' head out on another ranging after ye've had a few days t' rest. I'm sorry fer sendin' ye back out so soon after yer last one, but we don't have much choice. We're still practically blind when it comes t' what's happenin' beyond the Wall, and after hearin' Edric's report, I can't in good conscience send just anyone out there."
Lord Commander Harron let out a weary sigh as he finished speaking. Time and again, he had sent Brandon, his First Ranger, beyond the Wall to gather information and locate the settlements of Sylas and Jorund, yet every expedition had returned empty-handed, with some casualties nonetheless. With no other viable option, he could only send Brandon once more to lead another ranging deep into the Haunted Forest.
He had long since dismissed the idea of dispatching any other ranging parties after hearing Edric's account. Even now, he struggled to comprehend just how dangerous the lands beyond the Wall had become. Edric's entire party had been wiped out, with only Edric himself surviving to return and tell the tale. At least one of them made it back, Harron reminded himself, though the thought did little to ease the grief he still carried for the brothers he had lost.
"No need t' apologize, Lord Commander," Brandon Snow replied from the chair opposite him. "I'll take the same men as before, and this time we'll scout farther north. We'll just need t' bring enough rations fer a fortnight... maybe even a full moon, dependin' on how far we end up goin'."
Harron nodded. "Do it. But I want you t' be more careful this time. We can't afford t' lose more men. Donnel returned from the south not long ago, and the number of recruits he managed t' bring back was only half of what he found last year. It worries me what'll become o' the Watch in the years ahead if this keeps up."
Brandon let out a quiet sigh. This ranging would be even more dangerous than the last. The wildling bands they encountered now often outnumbered them three to one, and nearly every expedition cost the Watch one or two brothers. After thinking for a moment, he gave a firm nod. "I'll make sure the men are more careful this time, Lord Commander. You have my word."
He paused briefly before asking, "Did that red-haired wildling who brought Edric back ever return t' trade information? You said he didn't refuse the offer."
"Nay," Harron replied, shaking his head. "We could certainly use whatever information he has, but he hasn't returned since the day he brought Edric back. Fer all we know, he might already be dead."
"What did Edric tell you about him?" Brandon asked curiously.
Harron scratched the back of his head before answering. "Edric claimed the red-haired wildling commands more than a hundred men, and that he's proficient in combat. Edric also said the lad never asked a single question about the Watch. Instead, he only asked about the lands south o' the Wall, what year it was, and who sat the Iron Throne. It's strange... suspicious even... but none of it concerned the Watch or our strength, so I didn't press the matter."
Brandon frowned. "And you believe Edric told you everythin'? It doesn't make much sense fer a wildling not t' ask about us."
"I've known the lad's father," Harron replied after a moment's thought. "And Edric hasn't lied t' me since, so I still trust his word."
He paused before adding with another sigh, "Though there is one thing he refuses t' speak about. He won't tell me how that wildling convinced him t' reveal everythin' he knew. Whatever happened out there left the poor lad badly shaken." Harron hesitated before lowering his voice. "What d'ye think? Think they... forced themselves on him?"
Brandon's expression darkened. "There are plenty o' wildlings who swings that way. I even caught two men together a couple o' years ago during a ranging, so... it's possible."
"Poor lad." Harron let out a weary sigh at the thought.
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed outside the Lord Commander's office, followed by a sharp knock on the door. "Lord Commander."
"Come in," Harron answered immediately, fearing some new emergency.
The steward entered without delay. Upon noticing Brandon, he paused for only a heartbeat before turning to Harron and reporting, "There's a large column o' smoke risin' from the Haunted Forest, not far from Castle Black. It's just like the signal our wildling informants used before. Should I send someone t' confirm who it is?"
Harron rose from his chair at once. "Aye. Send someone t' identify them. Perhaps one o' our informants survived."
He stopped midway through the order and reconsidered. "Actually... nay. I'll go myself."
The steward's eyes widened. "No, Lord Commander. It's too dangerous."
Harron simply waved the objection aside. "That's final. You won't change my mind."
He turned toward Brandon, who was clearly unhappy with the decision, and grinned. "What're you frownin' fer? You're comin' with me. If I'm in danger, then you can protect me."
That finally eased Brandon's concerns. Shaking his head with a resigned smile, he asked instead, "How many men are we bringin'?"
Harron considered the question for a moment before answering. "Just five. Any more than that and whoever lit that smoke may lose their nerve and disappear before we reach them."
"Aye." Brandon rose from his chair, gave a respectful nod, and left the office to assemble his men.
Once the door closed behind him, Harron looked back at his steward and smiled. "See? Ye've got nothin' t' worry about. Our First Ranger will be with me."
The steward let out a helpless sigh. Knowing there was no changing the Lord Commander's mind, he could only nod before excusing himself to prepare Harron's gear and horse for the journey.
Once everything had been made ready and Brandon Snow had gathered the five rangers who would accompany them, the Lord Commander wasted no time. He immediately left Castle Black and rode into the tunnel beneath the Wall.
As soon as the gates opened, Brandon urged his horse forward, overtaking his aging Lord Commander to take the lead.
Harron could only smile wryly at the gesture but said nothing, allowing his First Ranger to assume the front as they rode toward the line of trees roughly a league from the Wall, and where the smoke continued to rise above the Haunted Forest.
After entering the forest and drawing close enough to the source of the smoke, Brandon raised a hand and ordered two of his rangers to move ahead and scout the area in case it was an ambush. He had no intention of allowing the Lord Commander to ride blindly into danger. If the worst happened, he was prepared to sacrifice those two men if it meant preserving Harron's life.
Neither ranger hesitated upon receiving the order. Proud to shoulder the responsibility, they urged their horses forward and cautiously led the party toward the smoke. Before long, a small clearing came into view. There they found the red-haired wildling standing calmly with one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Four companions stood behind him, each with a bow in hand. Although their arrows remained nocked, their bows were lowered, clearly showing that they had no intention of attacking unless provoked.
The moment Harron caught sight of the young man's distinctive red hair, he immediately recognized him. Red hair was hardly unheard of among the Free Folk, but neither was it common enough. Raising a hand, he signaled for his men to remain calm before gently urging his horse forward.
Brandon hesitated for a brief moment, wondering whether he should stop the Lord Commander from approaching alone. In the end, he simply nudged his own horse forward and followed a few paces behind, ready to intervene at the first sign of danger.
They came to a halt just close enough to converse without raising their voices. Harron studied the red-haired youth for a long moment before he said. "So it's you. I thought you were dead."
A faint smile tugged at Ivar's lips. "It'll take a lot o' effort and men t' kill me, ye know."
Brandon frowned at the confident reply. From where he was, the red-haired wildling looked no different from any other wildling he met, and he was certain he could cut the brat down in a matter of seconds if it came to a fight. Even so, he held his tongue and allowed Harron to handle the conversation.
Harron merely nodded, already accustomed to the boastful nature of the wildlings. This was far from the first time he had heard such confidence from a wildling.
"So..." he said, "you lit the signal I told you about. I take it you've got somethin' fer me?"
"'Course," Ivar replied. Reaching to his side, he slowly pulled out a rolled beastskin. The rangers immediately tensed, several hands drifting toward the hilts of their weapons, but he paid them no mind. After unrolling it just enough for them to see, he held it up with a small smile.
"How much is the location o' Jorund's settlement worth?" he asked. "I've got a map that'll lead ye there from here."
Harron raised a hand, signaling his men to stand down before turning his attention to the rolled beastskin in Ivar's hands. Although he was undeniably interested, he made no effort to show it. After studying the map for a long moment, he finally spoke.
"And how am I supposed t' know it really leads t' Jorund's settlement? More importantly, how do I know it won't lead my men straight into a trap?" He paused briefly before continuing. "Forgive me, but this is the first time I've ever heard of a wildling carryin' a map. Most o' yer people simply point in a direction and describe where a place is."
Still casually waving the rolled beastskin, Ivar shrugged.
"That's hardly my problem if ye don't trust me enough. What I'm offerin' is information, the location of a man I'm certain the Crows like ye would very much like t' find." A faint smile crossed his face as he continued, "Course, I could always lead yer men there meself, but that'll cost ye a great deal more. As fer the map..." He tapped the rolled beastskin with a finger. "I simply know how t' draw. I've always had a knack fer learnin' new things. I'm sure Edric already told ye as much."
Harron frowned but did not answer immediately. Instead, he turned slightly toward Brandon and quietly asked whether he could guarantee the safety of a ranging party to Jorund's settlement with the red haired brat and his group of wildlings with them. Brandon studied Ivar and the four companions behind him once more before giving a slight confident nod. From his assessment, neither the young wildling nor the handful of warriors accompanying him posed any real threat to a properly armed ranging party.
Receiving the answer he expected, Harron turned back to Ivar. "What do ye want in exchange fer that information?" he asked. "And if I wanted ye t' personally lead a group o' my men t' Jorund's settlement... what would yer price be?"
Ivar could not stop the corners of his mouth from curling upward into a triumphant smile. The negotiation he had been waiting for had finally begun. What followed was a lengthy exchange of bargaining, haggling, and counteroffers as both sides tried to gain the upper hand. In the end, they eventually reached an agreement that satisfied them both. If the Night's Watch wanted him to personally guide one of their ranging parties to Jorund's settlement, they would have to provide five horses for him and his companions. He had no intention of marching on foot while the crows rode comfortably beside him, nor would he allow his own group to be placed at such a disadvantage. Harron reluctantly agreed to the demand, though inwardly he was already considering giving the wildlings the oldest and slowest horses the Watch possessed.
The following morning, the agreed-upon horses were brought outside the gate and five sacks of grain alongside Brandon Snow and the six rangers who would accompany them to Jorund's settlement. The moment Ivar saw the animals, he frowned. Every horse looked old and well past its prime, making it obvious that the Lord Commander had not sent them the Watch's best mounts.
Unable to hide his dissatisfaction, Ivar turned to Brandon and complained about the condition of the horses.
Brandon merely shrugged.
"We never agreed on what kind o' horses ye'd receive," he replied calmly. "Only that ye'd be given five horses. These meet the agreement."
Ivar could hardly argue with that. After a moment's thought, he accepted the horses and silently swore to be far more specific during any future negotiations with the crows. Besides, he still had another valuable bargaining chip in reserve. He had deliberately withheld the location of Sylas's settlement, intending to trade that information another time. There was no reason to hand over everything he knew in a single transaction. By spacing out the information he provided, he hoped to gradually build a reliable trading relationship with the Night's Watch while ensuring they would continue to see both him and his people as valuable allies rather than a one-time source of intelligence.
With the matter settled, the two groups set out together, beginning their journey toward Jorund's settlement.
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A/N: Please don't forget to rate and review the story after reading. And if you want to read ahead. You know where to look.