Chapter 13: Winterfell and the Plea for Aid
Winterfell is not a city, but a castle. Its purpose, much like the Red Keep in King's Landing, is solely to provide residence and protection for the lord; it handles no miscellaneous urban functions, and the concept of "citizens" does not exist within its walls. Legend says it was built by Bran the Builder with the help of giants. As a noble family seat, Winterfell is certainly grand, but compared to another structure built by the same man—the Wall—it is insignificant in both scale and majesty.
Excluding the surrounding villages and the Winter Town (which is largely deserted in summer), the area enclosed by Winterfell's high walls is less than a hundred acres, nearly half of which is taken up by the Godswood. Aside from the retainers, subordinates, servants, and their families serving House Stark, the only permanent residents are a standing force of hundreds—the largest professional army in the North outside of the Night's Watch.
As a ranger who had stood guard on the Wall and slain an Other in the Haunted Forest, there wasn't much left in this world that could intimidate Egger. His first thought upon seeing Winterfell wasn't awe or wonder, but a slight shock: The political center of the North, home to so many pivotal figures, is actually this small. No wonder hosting a King throws them into a frenzy! Then again, he realized his subconscious was using the Wall as a yardstick; by that standard, nothing on earth would qualify as "large."
The sky was darkening as Egger, heart full of apprehension, followed Benjen through the gates of Winterfell.
"Welcome home, Lord Benjen." A guard who had served House Stark for years recognized the Lord's brother immediately, eagerly taking the First Ranger's reins. "I'll have your quarters and a bath prepared at once."
"No need. Where is my brother?"
"The Lord has just finished receiving the King. He's likely busy in the Great Keep... I'm not certain."
"The King has arrived already?" Benjen frowned. "Dammit, I was two days ahead of schedule... At least I didn't miss the feast. Get to your business; I'll find him myself."
"Yes, my lord."
Winterfell was currently bursting at the seams. The once-spacious yard was packed with horses, carts, chests, and frantic servants. Robert Baratheon's progress north had brought hundreds of retainers and guards, while the Queen and Princess brought even more baggage. The castle couldn't house them all; many had to be diverted to the town outside. The main gate was a chaotic mess of traffic. Benjen led Egger with practiced ease through the castle's layered corridors and walkways, soon arriving at the Great Keep where the Starks resided. After a quick word with the guards, they entered, finding the Lord of Winterfell snatching a moment of peace in his solar.
"Benjen!" Eddard Stark was giving instructions to a servant regarding guest arrangements. Upon seeing his brother, a genuine smile broke across his face. He stood, waved the servant away, and met his brother with a powerful embrace. "How is life at the Wall? Still as grueling as ever?"
"I've grown used to it." Benjen patted his brother's arm and stepped back. "But something has surfaced north of the Wall. I believe the Warden of the North needs to hear of it."
"Mm, the wildlings... I've heard rumors in the letters. But you have no idea the effort it took to deal with Robert today. The man has grown as fat as a hog." The Lord of Winterfell complained with a wry smile. He had dark brown hair and the same long face as Benjen; even with a smile, he carried an aura of natural authority—the first man Egger had met since transmigrating who actually looked the part of a ruler. "Can it wait until after the welcoming feast?"
"No, now. What I have to discuss is more important than feasts, Kings, Queens, or anything else in this world." Benjen Stark shook his head solemnly and beckoned Egger, who was standing by the door. "This is one of my rangers. He will tell you what happened."
Seeing his brother's gravity, Ned's smile vanished. He turned to Egger. "Greetings... friend. How shall I call you?"
A common soldier receiving such courtesy from a high noble was likely a phenomenon unique to the North. Egger knew the friendliness was largely directed at the black he wore. "My Lord may call me Egger. I am not of Westeros and have no surname in the sense the Seven Kingdoms understand it."
"Not of Westeros?" Ned was hearing of a foreign Night's Watchman for the first time. He studied Egger with curiosity before looking back at Benjen for explanation.
"Egger comes from some unheard-of continent far to the west," the other Stark explained with a shrug. "He encountered the Others while on patrol with Waymar Royce and fled back to the Wall to warn us."
"The Others?"
Ned's expression darkened, and suspicion clouded his eyes as he looked at Egger again.
He did not believe the Others existed. In his view, Waymar Royce's disappearance was almost certainly a wildling ambush. The missing boy's father, Yohn Royce, was the most important vassal of Ned's foster-father and brother-in-law, Jon Arryn. Yohn had stayed at Winterfell while escorting his son to the Wall, his words making it clear he hoped the Lord of the North would look out for his boy. Though a ranger's disappearance couldn't be blamed on him, Ned felt a lingering sense of unease—a feeling that he couldn't "give an accounting" to a grieving father.
"Wait a moment. If I am not mistaken, you are one of the three rangers Waymar Royce took beyond the Wall. If the Others killed your commander, why did they let you and another return?" Ned's tone shifted, becoming aggressive. "According to the laws of the Watch, how do we deal with deserters?"
"The Others didn't let us return; we fought through hell to escape." Egger struggled to ignore the intimidating light of suspicion in the Warden's eyes, knowing that any show of weakness now would be disastrous. "Furthermore, as we neared the Wall, another ranger and I coordinated to slay an Other that was hunting us."
"And where is the body?"
"The Other's body evaporated upon death, leaving no remains," Egger explained, knowing how much this sounded like a flimsy excuse. He moved quickly to supplement his claim: "But I have other evidence."
"Oh?" The High Lord of the North glanced at his brother, let out a nearly imperceptible breath through his nose, and turned toward his desk. He sat in his chair and gestured. "Show me."
Benjen stood aside and remained silent. Egger, as if he had rehearsed it a thousand times, quickly lifted his pack and set it on the chair opposite Eddard Stark to begin his presentation.
He had brought all the broken swords and the obsidian dagger to Winterfell. The three shattered blades were kept in three sturdy, puncture-proof leather sheaths. Egger removed them one by one, laying them on the desk and reassembling them... Waymar Royce's sword was so badly fragmented that it took Egger a moment to piece it together. The Lord of Winterfell frowned but waited patiently for him to finish before asking: "Three broken swords and a black dagger. What is the meaning of this?"
"Three broken swords from three rangers who faced an Other head-on. Of them, Waymar Royce fought heroically until his death; Gared was severely wounded and is still recovering at Castle Black; and I alone am lucky enough to still be standing." Egger spoke with a steady pace, introducing the evidence like a seasoned professional. "And this black thing is the obsidian dagger that finally killed the Other."
"So, everyone who faced this 'Other' had their sword break?" Ned rested his chin on his hands. He knew Benjen; his brother was not a man easily fooled. If this man were a simple deserter, Benjen would never have brought him here. He decided to hear the rest. "But how do I know you didn't break these yourself?"
"Please look at the fracture points, my Lord." Egger pointed them out for the Lord. "Can you see that the damage to these blades is different from anything normal?"
"I've never seen a sword shatter like this. How was it done?" Ned Stark took a moment to realize the anomaly. He was a veteran of many battles and had seen many broken swords, but never a shattered one. He curiously picked up a small shard from Waymar's blade, studied it, and tapped it. He confirmed it was true steel.
"Frost-shatter," Egger dropped the catchy term. "To be more specific, I believe the ice magic present in the Others' weapons causes steel to become brittle. Their weapons appear to be made of ice, yet the standard steel of the Watch breaks upon the first impact."
Egger then took the explanation he had used for Mormont and Aemon, refined it, and delivered it again. This time, fully rested and fed, his physical and mental state were at their peak. His delivery—the clarity, the tone, and the sheer persuasiveness—was far superior to his first attempt.
After explaining the mechanics of the shattered steel, he provided a slightly modified account of their escape from the Others and the lucky kill of their pursuer. Eddard Stark listened patiently throughout. Only when the ranger finished his prepared speech did Ned lower his hand from his chin and look thoughtfully at his brother.
Benjen Stark met Ned's gaze, realizing that his brother still didn't quite believe in the Others. He was helpless to fix that; after all, he was only inferring that Egger was telling the truth based on the evidence—he couldn't claim to have seen it with his own eyes.
"The Shadow Tower has also submitted reports of suspected Other sightings. Rangers from Castle Black and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea claim to have seen massive wildling migrations. Entire villages are being abandoned, as if they are fleeing something..." The First Ranger made a final push. "The signs indicate the Watch is facing an unprecedented challenge. You know better than I the state of the Night's Watch today. We need aid."
"I will give the order; you can pick men from the dungeons later..."
"The Watch needs supplies and an army, not a handful of scum and recruits!" Benjen interrupted his brother bluntly. "You expect a pile of criminals with basic training to defend the Seven Kingdoms? On a good day, we are barely holding on—let alone now. I didn't bring this man here just to do the work of a wandering crow!"
The room fell silent. Eddard, having been snapped at, sat quietly. He toyed with the obsidian dagger Egger had provided, head bowed in deep thought.
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