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In truth, this move cost Kassa a lot of power.
A Magnar had always spoken and been obeyed among the Thenns. Once the military merit system took root, his grip on the warriors would loosen dramatically and his own position could eventually be challenged.
If Lynn's plan really got rolling, battle honors would pile up at terrifying speed. Brand-new military nobles could rise fast.
The Thenns, being the fiercest fighters, would have the best shot at it.
Lynn had already hinted at this beforehand, but Kassa was a practical man. From Lynn's explanations he understood that Free Folk life was about to change forever.
Besides, as the strongest warrior among the Thenns, he trusted his own skill.
Yes—even as Magnar, under this system he would still have to start as an ordinary soldier. That was the Free Folk way.
After a lively discussion, a rough draft of the Westerosi-style military merit system was written down on a piece of goatskin.
Lynn made a copy and had Nymo deliver it to Mance.
Mance had been busy trying to convince the various clans to contribute fighters, but getting them to act as separate family or clan units was one thing. Getting them to fight together as a real army was something else entirely.
Lately he had been using Lynn's titles—"Son of the Stars" and "Dragon Tamer"—to recruit young warriors, but it wasn't going well. Strangely, Lynn's unusual appearance seemed to be attracting quite a few spearwives instead.
That was… not exactly helpful.
Lynn hoped the new merit system would make a difference. Without the other clans as support, the roughly twelve hundred Thenn warriors alone wouldn't be enough to carry the entire plan.
The snowball might melt before it could even start rolling.
A few days later, Lynn asked for a recurve composite bow made of horn, sinew, and some unfamiliar wood so he could practice Bloodraven's archery.
It lacked the raw power of Bloodraven's weirwood longbow and was far cruder in craftsmanship, but it was light, easy to carry, and had a low draw weight—perfect for Lynn, who had the technique but not yet the physical strength.
Lyanna tossed pieces of wood into the air as targets. Lynn drew, aimed, and released.
At first he was a little stiff, but after a few shots the feel came back to him. Soon he was hitting almost every target.
Archery was simpler than sword fighting. You mostly just needed to align the two points and the line between them while accounting for wind and distance. Swordplay demanded footwork, power generation, muscle memory, experience, and combat instinct.
Up close, every inch was dangerous. Shooting from a distance felt far more comfortable.
Lyanna didn't seem particularly impressed by his accuracy. In her eyes, Lynn was supposed to be exceptional. After all, how else could he have killed a White Walker?
He shot over a hundred arrows in bursts. Eventually the muscles around his shoulder blades started burning, and the strain from his earlier sword practice flared up again. He decided to call it a day.
Some Thenn children who had been watching scrambled to fetch the targets. They didn't dare approach Lynn directly and handed the wood—now looking like a porcupine—to Lyanna instead. They were clearly afraid of the blood-red dragon curled near his feet, watching everything with bright eyes.
That same night, Mance called for a rare full council of all the Free Folk leaders.
It was the first time Kassa had met with the other chiefs since becoming Magnar. Lynn was invited as well. To make an impression, he put the spacesuit back on.
Mance had already dropped enough hints, and the Thenns had been stirring the pot. Many clan leaders had begun to sense that the wind was shifting.
So when Lynn stepped into the huge tent sewn from snow-bear hides, nearly every eye turned toward him.
The tent was packed. Besides the familiar faces—Harma Dogshead, the Weeper, the Bone Lord, and Tormund Giantsbane—there were many new ones.
A lot of them had never seen Lynn or his dragon in person, so a wave of murmuring swept through the crowd immediately.
After introductions, Lynn learned they were the chiefs and chieftains of the various clans.
The man in thick seal skins with a wild mane of hair was the leader of the Frozen Shore people. He was heavyset but paralyzed from the waist down. Two massive, surprisingly gentle white dogs lay beside him, ready to pull his sled in place of legs.
The moment they saw the dragon, both dogs whimpered and pissed themselves, which set Tormund howling with laughter.
The man with gray-black stripes painted across his face was the leader of the Nightrunners. He was thin as a stick with oversized eyes and yellowish pupils, looking like a dried lizard corpse.
True to their name, the Nightrunners had excellent night vision—nowhere near as strong as many nocturnal predators, but still a rare gift. Unfortunately, their numbers were small, and they were constantly at war with the Hardfoots.
Lynn was already familiar with the Ice River clan, though this time it wasn't Harl who had come with them earlier. This man had shifty eyes and wore strings of human teeth around his neck, which made Lynn's skin crawl.
The short, hunchbacked, heavily wrinkled man was the Hardfoot chieftain.
As Nymo had once said, it was almost impossible for outsiders to guess their age. Men, women, young and old—they all looked like dried-up little old men, walking with hunched shoulders and lowered heads.
Underestimate them at your peril. Their ambushes were savage. Nymo had called them "human hyenas"—deadly in numbers and viciousness.
These were the leaders of the larger clans. They had spent years hating and warring with one another until Mance forced them together.
There were also many smaller clans, including the cave dwellers Lynn had seen before—the ones who painted their faces blue, purple, and green and filed their teeth into sharp points like rasps.
They and the other strange little tribes crowded toward the back. Many of them even Mance couldn't fully explain the origins of.
Besides the famous raiders and the swarm of clan chiefs, there were a few less powerful but still well-known figures present.
Among them were:
"Kingsblood" Gerrick. He claimed descent from Redbeard Raymun, though only through Redbeard's brother. Among the Free Folk, that was about as meaningful as saying you came from Redbeard's horse.
As Mance had said, the Free Folk didn't follow names.
"Big Father" Ygon. Most of his followers were his own sons and grandsons. He had eighteen wives, half of them stolen on raids. His sons and grandsons followed his example, so their family had swelled rapidly.
Lynn had already mentally placed him on the list of people who would be staying behind to guard the Wall.