Kuna opened her mouth, then hesitated.
"Mance spent years on this. He negotiated with every clan chief. Sweet words won one village, songs won another, and blades and spears won the third."
"He made the Weeper and the Bone Lord shake hands. He forced the Hardfoots and Nightrunners to talk. He brought peace between the walrus-eaters of the Frozen Shore and the cannibals of the Great Glacier. He took a hundred different knives and forged them into one giant spear."
"Before him the free folk hated each other just as much as they hate the kneelers. If Mance could do it, I believe you can. Yesterday when you spoke to him, you sounded more like a king than he did."
I sounded like a king? Bullshit, Lynn thought. He'd just been confident, knew Mance didn't want a bloodbath inside his own army, and had years of online arguments to draw from.
"He will never win the Northerners' respect. But you can. You have a dragon!"
Kuna finished with absolute certainty.
The tent fell quiet.
Lynn ran the whole plan through his head. According to Kuna, he would first need the Thenns' total loyalty and win over the less savage free folk he could.
Then, before Mance took the Wall, he would seize the key passes, force the rest of the wildlings to kneel or die.
Next he would raise a banner under some name, demand the Northern lords submit, and tell them to live beside the people they'd hated for thousands of years.
Finally he would teach the wildlings to stop raiding, clear land, and feed themselves. Everyone goes home happy. The end.
It sounded like a goddamn fairy tale.
He had to admit a small part of him was tempted. He had zero interest in being a medieval king or lord, but the idea of actually accomplishing something big was hard for any man to turn down.
Still, he rubbed his chin and gave a bitter little laugh.
Even if he decided to risk everything and chase Kuna's fantasy, the whole thing depended on Kassa becoming the new Magnar.
If one of the other two won, they would still treat Lynn with respect—but they would never take orders from him.
Kuna seemed to cool off after her big speech too. She was sharp; she'd had one night to think it through and had to see the massive risks and unknowns.
The real problem was simple: Lynn had no reason to gamble his life on an unrealistic throne.
"I'll think about it," he said carefully. "We'll talk again after the Magnar ritual is over."
"As you command, my lord."
Kuna bowed like a proper servant, then stepped aside and motioned the cloaked figure forward.
"My lord, my daughter Lyanna. She is fifteen. She has her father's dark-gold hair and the green eyes of House Umber."
Kuna pulled the cloak off her daughter and turned the girl in a slow circle like she was showing off merchandise.
After days of seeing nothing but filthy wildlings, Lynn felt the tent actually brighten.
Lyanna's pretty face had been carefully cleaned. She looked nervous, but her hair was braided in an intricate style that made her even lovelier.
No wonder she'd worn the cloak. Even plain and trying to look plain she drew hungry stares. Dressed and groomed like this, not even a Magnar's order would keep men from trying to steal her.
Kuna liked Lynn's reaction and kept going.
"I kept her safe. I taught her manners and letters, hoping one day she could live in her family's castle instead of suffering out here like I did."
"A few years ago I convinced my husband to surrender to the Night's Watch so I could send word to my father. There have been cases before—Northern women taken by raiders who made it home. I thought even if my father wouldn't claim me, at least Lyanna could go back."
"Then sickness took Flivvi. I couldn't cross the North alone with a daughter. But before he died he begged the Magnar for one last order…"
Lynn nodded along. "I heard. The Magnar forbade any man from stealing her."
"Yes, my lord. I swear she is still a maiden."
Lyanna's face turned visibly red. That alone showed how different she was from most wildlings.
Kuna didn't soften her words. "Even if we reached Last Hearth, her birth would mean she'd never be fully accepted. She might rank below a bastard. And once the Wall falls, the castle won't be safe anyway."
"My lord, I ask for nothing grand. Let Lyanna serve you. If you give her a child—even a bastard—it would give her some protection later. Better that than being stolen from her bed one night by some stranger."
Kuna and her husband had chosen each other, but her past still made her hate wildling ways. Even the more civilized Thenns kept plenty of ugly customs.
The "stealing" of wives was mostly rape dressed up as tradition. Only a few cases were actually mutual. Everyone had simply accepted it for so long that no one questioned it.
Lynn had guessed where this was headed. Back on Earth he would have called it a win-win. Here and now, in this brutal place, he couldn't feel good about it. Twenty-plus years of peaceful modern life had left him with too much empathy.
He stood, walked over to Lyanna, and looked down into her eyes.
"Tell me the truth, Lyanna."
His voice left no room for evasion. "Is your mother's request what you want? I want your honest answer."
A flicker of confusion crossed her striking green eyes. It took her a moment to realize he was actually asking her opinion.
Handing a fifteen-year-old girl total say over her own life sounded harsh, but this was a child raised beyond the Wall. No matter how much her parents had shielded her, she was far more grown-up than any girl her age from the warmer south.
When she gave a clear yes, Lynn turned to Kuna, who let out a huge breath of relief.
"I promise I will protect Lyanna as far as I'm able, and she will always be free to leave if she chooses."
"That's enough for today. Keep our conversation private. Oh—one more thing. Do you know how to clean these fur clothes? They smell awful."
"Moonheart-vine sap, my lord. It grows in the cracks of the cliff walls, but the free folk say it's too much trouble."
Kuna gathered up every piece of clothing and hugged the bundle to her chest. Lynn noticed she had switched back to calling them "free folk" instead of wildlings.
"Leave it to me. I'll wash them and sew them properly for you. Lyanna, stay and take the lord's measurements. I'll bring your things later."
Kuna had just lifted a huge weight off her shoulders. Her steps were lighter as she slipped out of the tent, leaving Lynn and Lyanna staring at each other.
After a long silence, Lyanna pulled a thin cord from her belt and stammered, "M-my lord… shall I take your measurements now?"