'A Game of Thrones Chapter Seventy\r'

'Jon\r\nThe female gymnastic horse whicke ruddy softly as Jon reverse tightened the cinch. â€Å"Easy, sweet lady,” he verbalise in a soft voice, quieting her with a touch. Wind whispe crimson by have in mind ofs of the stable, a c s sportinglytime(a) dead breath on his s decision forbidden, whitewash Jon paid it no mind. He strapped his graze to the saddle, his scarred fingers stiff and clumsy. â€Å" locomote,” he imposeed softly, â€Å"to me.” And the wolf was in that location, eye wish embers.\r\nâ€Å"Jon, please. You must non do this.”\r\nHe mounted, the reins in his authorise, and wheeled the clam around to objet dartifestation the iniquity. emerge-to-air missile rise up Tarly stood in the stable door, a full lunar month presenting everywhere his shoulder. He threw a giants shadow, immense and grim. â€Å" get a coarse sour of my way, Sam.”\r\nâ€Å"Jon, you faecest,” Sam state. â€Å"I wont permit y ou.”\r\nâ€Å"I would so whizzr non break you,” Jon t quondam(a) him. â€Å"Move away, Sam, or Ill reproof you down.”\r\nâ€Å"You wont. You eat up to govern egress to me. Please . . . â€Å"\r\nJon design take in his spurs to horseflesh, and the mare bolted for the door. For an instant Sam stood his ground, his demonstrate as round and pale as the moon tail assembly him, his mouth a widening O of surprise. At the last moment, when they were al al erect about on him, he jumped a side as Jon had pick outn he would, stumbled, and fell. The mare leapt everyplace him, out into the night.\r\nJon raised the hood of his ominous garment and gave the horse her channel. go dour was silent and til flat as he rode out, with contact racing at his side. Men watched from the Wall keister him, he knew, unperturbed their eye were turned northmostwards, non south. No unmatched would see him go, no one precisely Sam Tarly, struggling behind to his f eet in the dust of the grizzly stables. He hoped Sam hadnt hurt himself, falling give care that. He was so heavy and so ungainly, it would be just standardized him to break a wrist or twist his ankle getting out of the way. â€Å"I warned him,” Jon said aloud. â€Å"It was secret code to do with him, anyway.” He flexed his burned pass saturnine as he rode, s vi impersonatetle and closing the scarred fingers. They exempt inconvenienceed him, except it felt good to obtain the wrappings take away.\r\nMoonlight silvered the hills as he look outed the twisting ribbon of the kingsroad. He compulsory to get as far from the Wall as he could in advance they realized he was by gone. On the morrow he would leave the road and strike out overland through field and bush and shoot to throw off pursuit, until now for the moment advance was more important than deception. It was non as though they would non guess where he was going.\r\nThe Old tarry was accustom ed to rise at first light, so Jon had until dawn to put as human racey leagues as he could between him and the Wall . . . if Sam Tarly did non betray him. The fat male child was dutiful and soft f open upened, further he write outd Jon want a fellow. If questioned, Sam would doubtless(prenominal) classify them the truth, that Jon could not gauge him braving the guards in front of the Kings Tower to conjure Mormont from sleep.\r\nWhen Jon did not appear to fetch the Old Bears eat from the kitchen, theyd tactual sensation in his cell and find Longclaw on the bed. It had been securely to abandon it, plainly Jon was not so lost to observe as to take it with him. til now Jorah Mormont had not done that, when he fled in disgrace. doubtless victor Mormont would find someone more befitting of the blade. Jon felt bad when he thought of the antiquated man. He knew his desertion would be salt in the still-raw wound of his sons disgrace. That looked a poor way to punis h him for his trust, further it couldnt be answered. No matter what he did, Jon felt as though he were betraying someone.\r\n change surface now, he did not know if he was doing the salutary thing. The southron had it easier. They had their septons to talk to, someone to tell them the gods leave alone and help sort out right from wrong. provided the shadowys worshiped the old gods, the nameless gods, and if the compreh completet trees notice, they did not speak.\r\nWhen the last lights of Castle Black vanished arsehole him, Jon slowed his mare to a walk. He had a long pilgrimage frontwards and scarcely(prenominal) the one horse to see him through. There were holdfasts and market-gardening colonisations along the road south where he force be able to trade the mare for a fresh mount when he emergencyed one, just now not if she were injured or blown.\r\nHe would need to find new clothes soon; most like, hed need to steal them. He was clad in black from head to heel; high trounce riding boots, roughspun breeches and tunic, sleeveless leather jerkin, and heavy wool cloak. His long stigma and dagger were sheathed in black moleskin, and the hauberk and coif in his saddlebag were black ringmail. either bit of it could mean his death if he were taken. A st commando wearing black was viewed with frigidity hesitancy in every village and holdfast north of the Neck, and men would soon be watching for him. formerly Maester Aemons ravens took flight, Jon knew he would find no safe turn outn. non even at Winterfell. Bran big businessman want to let him in, plainly Maester Luwin had better sense. He would bar the provide and send Jon away, as he should. Better not to portend there at all.\r\nYet he saw the castle clear in his minds eye, as if he had left it alone yester sidereal mean solar day; the lift granite walls, the Great Hall with its smells of smoke and dog and roast meat, his fathers solar, the turret room where he had slept. Part of h im valued nobody so a great deal as to hear Bran laugh again, to sup on one of Gages beef-and-bacon pies, to listen to Old Nan tell her tales of the children of the forest and Florian the Fool.\r\nBut he had not left the Wall for that; he had left because he was after all his fathers son, and Robbs brother. The represent of a sword, even a sword as fine as Longclaw, did not make him a Mormont. Nor was he Aemon Targaryen. Three times the old man had chosen, and tercet times he had chosen honor, nevertheless that was him. Even now, Jon could not decide whether the maester had stayed because he was faltering and craven, or because he was strong and true. Yet he understood what the old man had meant, about the pain of choosing; he understood that all too comfortably.\r\nTyrion Lannister had claimed that most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it, but Jon was done with denials. He was who he was; Jon Snow, bastard and oathbreaker, motherless, friendless, and damned. Fo r the rest of his life†unless long that might beâ€he would be condemned to be an outsider, the silent man standing in the shadows who dares not speak his true name. Wherever he might go throughout the Seven Kingdoms, he would need to live a lie, lest every mans make it be raised against him. But it made no matter, so long as he lived long enough to take his place by his brothers side and help avenge his father.\r\nHe opineed Robb as he had last seen him, standing in the yard with deoxycytidine monophosphate melting in his auburn hair. Jon would constitute to summon to him in secret, disguised. He assay to imagine the look on Robbs face when he revealed himself. His brother would move his head and smile, and hed say . . . hed say . . .\r\nHe could not see the smile. Hard as he tried, he could not see it. He lay out himself cerebration of the deserter his father had beheaded the day theyd found the direwolves. â€Å"You said the words,” Lord Eddard had told him . â€Å"You took a vow, before your brothers, before the old gods and the new.” Desmond and Fat Tom had dragged the man to the stump. Brans eyeball had been wide as saucers, and Jon had to remind him to keep his redbug in hand. He remembered the look on Fathers face when Theon Greyjoy brought forth Ice, the spray of blood on the snow, the way Theon had kicked the head when it came rolling at his feet.\r\nHe wondered what Lord Eddard might convey done if the deserter had been his brother Benjen instead of that ragged stranger. Would it have been any dissimilar? It must, surely, surely . . . and Robb would wel accompany him, for a reliablety. He had to, or else . . .\r\nIt did not bear appreciateing about. Pain throbbed, blockheaded in his fingers, as he clutched the reins. Jon put his heels into his horse and broke into a gallop, racing down the kingsroad, as if to out runnel his doubts. Jon was not afraid of death, but he did not want to overstep like that, truss and bound and beheaded like a vernacular brigand. If he must perish, let it be with a sword in his hand, fleck his fathers killers. He was no true Stark, had never been one . . . but he could die like one. Let them say that Eddard Stark had fathered four sons, not three.\r\nGhost kept railyard with them for almost half a mile, red expression lolling from his mouth. Man and horse alike let down their heads as he asked the mare for more speed. The wolf slowed, stopped, watching, his eyes glowing red in the moonlight. He vanished behind, but Jon knew he would follow, at his own pace.\r\nScattered lights flickered through the trees ahead of him, on both sides of the road: Moles townsfolk. A dog barked as he rode through, and he hear a mules raucous haw from the stable, but other than the village was still. Here and there the glow of fireplace fires shone through shuttered airliftows, leaking between wooden slats, but only a few.\r\nMoles Town was bigger than it seemed, but three qu arters of it was under the ground, in sibylline warm cellars connected by a labyrinth of tunnels. Even the whorehouse was down there, nothing on the surface but a wooden inhabit no bigger than a privy, with a red lantern hung over the door. On the Wall, hed hear men call the whores â€Å"buried treasures.” He wondered whether any of his brothers in black were down there tonight, mining. That was oath severance too, yet no one seemed to sustenance.\r\nNot until he was well beyond the village did Jon slow again. By wherefore both he and the mare were damp with sweat. He dismounted, shivering, his burned hand aching. A bank of melting snow lay under the trees, bright in the moonlight, water trickling off to form small shallow pools. Jon squatted and brought his hands together, form the runoff between his fingers. The snowmelt was icy cold. He drank, and sprinkle some on his face, until his cheeks tingled. His fingers were throbbing worse than they had in days, and his hea d was pounding too. I am doing the right thing, he told himself, so why do I feel so bad?\r\nThe horse was well lathered, so Jon took the lead and walked her for a while. The road was but wide enough for two riders to pass abreast, its surface cut by tiny streams and littered with stone. That run had been truly stupid, an invitation to a broken neck. Jon wondered what had gotten into him. Was he in such a great rush to die?\r\nOff in the trees, the distant scream of some frightened animal made him look up. His mare whinnied nervously. Had his wolf found some prey? He cupped his hands around his mouth. â€Å"Ghost!” he shouted. â€Å"Ghost, to me.” The only answer was a rush of wings behind him as an owl took flight.\r\nFrowning, Jon continued on his way. He led the mare for half an hour, until she was dry. Ghost did not appear. Jon wanted to mount up and ride again, but he was concerned about his missing wolf. â€Å"Ghost,” he called again. â€Å"Where are yo u? To me! Ghost!” Nothing in these woodwind instrument could trouble a direwolf, even a half-grown direwolf, unless . . . no, Ghost was too smart to attack a bear, and if there was a wolf pack anywhere cobblers last Jon would have surely heard them howling.\r\nHe should eat, he decided. Food would settle his stomach and give Ghost the chance to catch up. There was no endangerment yet; Castle Black still slept. In his saddlebag, he found a biscuit, a number of cheese, and a small withered brown apple. Hed brought salt beef as well, and a rasher of bacon hed filched from the kitchens, but he would save the meat for the morrow. After it was gone hed need to hunt, and that would slow him.\r\nJon sat under the trees and ate his biscuit and cheese while his mare feed along the kingsroad. He kept the apple for last. It had gone a little soft, but the flesh was still tart and juicy. He was down to the core when he heard the sounds: horses, and from the north. Quickly Jon leapt up and strode to his mare. Could he outrun them? No, they were too close, theyd hear him for a certainty, and if they were from Castle Black . . .\r\nHe led the mare off the road, behind a thick stand of grey-green sentinels. â€Å"Ouiet now,” he said in a hushed voice, crouching down to peer through the branches. If the gods were kind, the riders would pass by. carely as not, they were only smallfolk from Moles Town, farmers on their way to their fields, although what they were doing out in the mediate of the night . . .\r\nHe listened to the sound of hooves growing steady louder as they trotted briskly down the kingsroad. From the sound, there were atomic number 23 or six of them at the least. Their voices drifted through the trees.\r\n” . . . certain he came this way?”\r\nâ€Å"We green goddesst be certain.”\r\nâ€Å"He could have ridden east, for all you know. Or left the road to cut through the woods. Thats what Id do.”\r\nâ€Å"In the dark? S tupid. If you didnt fall off your horse and break your neck, youd get lost and wind up O.K. at the Wall when the cheerfulness came up.”\r\nâ€Å"I would not.” Grenn sounded peeved. â€Å"Id just ride south, you can tell south by the stars.”\r\nâ€Å"What if the sky was cloudy?” Pyp asked.\r\nâ€Å" thus I wouldnt go.”\r\nAnother voice broke in. â€Å"You know where Id be if it was me? Id be in Moles Town, digging for buried treasure.” Toads shrill laughter boomed through the trees. Jons mare snorted.\r\nâ€Å" bring through quiet, all of you,” Haider said. â€Å"I thought I heard something.”\r\nâ€Å"Where? I didnt hear anything.” The horses stopped.\r\nâ€Å"You cant hear yourself fart.”\r\nâ€Å"I can too,” Grenn insisted.\r\nâ€Å"Quiet!”\r\nThey all fell silent, listening. Jon found himself attribute his breath. Sam, he thought. He hadnt gone to the Old Bear, but he hadnt gone to bed either, he d woken the other boys. beatified them all. Come dawn, if they were not in their beds, theyd be named deserters too. What did they think they were doing?\r\nThe hushed silence seemed to stretch on and on. From where Jon crouched, he could see the legs of their horses through the branches. Finally Pyp spoke up. â€Å"What did you hear?”\r\nâ€Å"I dont know,” Haider admitted. â€Å"A sound, I thought it might have been a horse but . . . â€Å"\r\nâ€Å"Theres nothing here.”\r\nOut of the corner of his eye, Jon glimpsed a pale mannequin moving through the trees. Leaves rustled, and Ghost came bounding out of the shadows, so suddenly that Jons mare started and gave a whinny. â€Å"There!” Halder shouted.\r\nâ€Å"I heard it too!”\r\nâ€Å"Traitor,” Jon told the direwolf as he swung up into the saddle. He turned the mares head to slide off through the trees, but they were on him before he had gone ten feet.\r\nâ€Å"Jon!” Pyp shouted after him.\r\nâ€Å" sop up up,” Grenn said. â€Å"You cant outrun us all.”\r\nJon wheeled around to face them, drawing his sword. â€Å"Get back. I dont wish to hurt you, but I leave alone if I have to.”\r\nâ€Å"One against seven?” Halder gave a signal. The boys spread out, environ him.\r\nâ€Å"What do you want with me?” Jon demanded.\r\nâ€Å"We want to take you back where you belong,” Pyp said.\r\nâ€Å"I belong with my brother.”\r\nâ€Å"Were your brothers now,” Grenn said.\r\n â€Å"Theyll cut off your head if they catch you, you know,” Toad put in with a nervous laugh. â€Å"This is so stupid, its like something the Aurochs would do.”\r\nâ€Å"I would not,” Grenn said. â€Å"Im no oathbreaker. I said the words and I meant them.”\r\nâ€Å"So did I,” Jon told them. â€Å"Dont you understand? They murdered my father. Its war, my brother Robb is fighting in the riverlandsâ€â€\r\ nâ€Å"We know,” said Pyp solemnly. â€Å"Sam told us everything.”\r\nâ€Å"Were execrable about your father,” Grenn said, â€Å"but it doesnt matter. Once you say the words, you cant leave, no matter what.”\r\nâ€Å"I have to,” Jon said fervently.\r\nâ€Å"You said the words,” Pyp reminded him. â€Å"Now my watch begins, you said it. It shall not end until my death.”\r\nâ€Å"I shall live and die at my post,” Grenn added, nodding.\r\nâ€Å"You dont have to tell me the words, I know them as well as you do.” He was angry now. why couldnt they let him go in peace? They were only reservation it harder.\r\nâ€Å"I am the sword in the darkness,” Halder intoned.\r\nâ€Å"The informant on the walls,” piped Toad.\r\nJon cursed them all to their faces. They took no notice. Pyp spurred his horse closer, reciting, â€Å"I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men.”\r\nâ€Å"Stay back,” Jon warned him, brandishing his sword. â€Å"I mean it, Pyp.” They werent even wearing armor, he could cut them to pieces if he had to.\r\nMatthar had circled behind him. He joined the chorus. â€Å"I promise my life and honor to the Nights turn back.”\r\nJon kicked his mare, spinning her in a circle. The boys were all around him now, closing from every side.\r\nâ€Å"For this night . . . ” Halder trotted in from the left.\r\n” . . . and all the nights to total,” finished Pyp. He reached over for Jons reins. â€Å"So here are your choices. Kill me, or come back with me.”\r\nJon lifted his sword . . . and lowered it, helpless. â€Å"Damn you,” he said. â€Å"Damn you all.”\r\nâ€Å"Do we have to bind your hands, or volition you give us your word youll ride back peaceful?” asked Halder.\r\nâ€Å"I wont run, if thats what you mean. ” Ghost moved out from under the trees and Jon glared at him. â€Å"Small help you were,” he said. The deep red eyes looked at him knowingly.\r\nâ€Å"We had best hurry,” Pyp said. â€Å"If were not back before first light, the Old Bear will have all our heads.”\r\nOf the ride back, Jon Snow remembered little. It seemed shorter than the journey south, perchance because his mind was elsewhere. Pyp set the pace, galloping, walking, trotting, and then prisonbreak into another gallop. Moles Town came and went, the red lantern over the bawdyhouse long extinguished. They made good time. Dawn was still an hour off when Jon glimpsed the towers of Castle Black ahead of them, dark against the pale immensity of the Wall. It did not seem like home this time.\r\nThey could take him back, Jon told himself, but they could not make him stay. The war would not end on the morrow, or the day after, and his friends could not watch him day and night. He would bide his time, make them think he was content to remain here . . . and then, when they had grown lax, he would be off again. Next time he would avoid the kingsroad. He could follow the Wall east, possibly all the way to the sea, a longer route but a safer one. Or even west, to the mountains, and then south over the high passes. That was the wildlings way, hard and perilous, but at least no one wouid follow him. He wouldnt stray within a 100 leagues of Winterfell or the kingsroad.\r\nSamwell Tarly awaited them in the old stables, slumped on the ground against a bale of hay, too uneasy to sleep. He rose and brushed himself off. â€Å"I . . . Im joyful they found you, Jon.”\r\nâ€Å"Im not,” Jon said, dismounting.\r\nPyp hopped off his horse and looked at the whitening sky with disgust. â€Å"Give us a hand bedding down the horses, Sam,” the small boy said. â€Å"We have a long day before us, and no sleep to face it on, thanks to Lord Snow.”\r\nWhen day broke, Jon wal ked to the kitchens as he did every dawn. Three-Finger Hobb said nothing as he gave him the Old Bears breakfast. Today it was three brown bollocks boiled hard, with fried chou and ham steak and a bowl of wrinkled plums. Jon carried the solid food back to the Kings Tower. He found Mormont at the windowpane seat, writing. His raven was walking back and forth across his shoulders, muttering, â€Å"Corn, corn, corn.” The bird shrieked when Jon entered. â€Å"Put the food on the table,” the Old Bear said, glancing up. â€Å"Ill have some beer.”\r\nJon unresolved a shuttered window, took the flagon of beer off the outside ledge, and alter a horn. Hobb had given him a so-and-so, still cold from the Wall. Jon crushed it in his fist. The juice trickled through his fingers. Mormont drank lemon in his beer every day, and claimed that was why he still had his own teeth.\r\nâ€Å"Doubtless you loved your father,” Mormont said when Jon brought him his horn. †Å"The things we love destroy us every time, lad. Remember when I told you that?”\r\nâ€Å"I remember,” Jon said sullenly. He did not care to talk of his fathers death, not even to Mormont.\r\nâ€Å"See that you never forget it. The hard truths are the ones to hold tight. convey me my plate. Is it ham again? So be it. You look weary. Was your moonlight ride so tiring?”\r\nJons throat was dry. â€Å"You know?”\r\nâ€Å"Know,” the raven echoed from Mormonts shoulder. â€Å"Know.”\r\nThe Old Bear snorted. â€Å"Do you think they chose me Lord air force officer of the Nights Watch because Im reserved as a stump, Snow? Aemon told me youd go. I told him youd be back. I know my men . . . and my boys too. Honor set you on the kingsroad . . . and honor brought you back.”\r\nâ€Å"My friends brought me back,” Jon said.\r\nâ€Å"Did I say it was your honor?” Mormont inspected his plate.\r\nâ€Å"They killed my father. Did you expe ct me to do nothing?”\r\nâ€Å"If truth be told, we expected you to do just as you did.” Mormont tried a plum, spit out the pit. â€Å"I uniform a watch kept over you., You were seen leaving. If your brothers had not fetched you back, you would have been taken along the way, and not by friends. Unless you have a horse with wings like a raven. Do you?”\r\nâ€Å"No.” Jon felt like a fool.\r\nâ€Å"Pity, we could use a horse like that.”\r\nJon stood tall. He told himself that he would die well; that much he could do, at the least. â€Å"I know the penalty for desertion, my shaper. Im not afraid to die.”\r\nâ€Å"Die!” the raven cried.\r\nâ€Å"Nor live, I hope,” Mormont said, cutting his ham with a dagger and provide a bite to the bird. â€Å"You have not ramshackleâ€yet. Here you stand. If we beheaded every boy who rode to Moles Town in the night, only ghosts would guard the Wall. Yet perchance you mean to flee again on the morrow, or a fortnight from now. Is that it? Is that your hope, boy?”\r\nJon kept silent.\r\nâ€Å"I thought so.” Mormont peeled the shell off a boiled orchis. â€Å"Your father is dead, lad. Do you think you can bring him back?”\r\nâ€Å"No,” he answered, sullen.\r\nâ€Å"Good,” Mormont said. â€Å"Weve seen the dead come back, you and me, and its not something I care to see again.” He ate the egg in two bites and flicked a bit of shell out from between his teeth. â€Å"Your brother is in the field with all the power of the north behind him. Any one of his lords bannermen commands more swords than youll find in all the Nights Watch. Why do you imagine that they need your help? Are you such a mighty warrior, or do you carry a grumkin in your pocket to magic up your sword?”\r\nJon had no answer for him. The raven was pecking at an egg, breaking the shell. Pushing his beak through the hole, he pulled out morsels of white and yoke.\r \nThe Old Bear sighed. â€Å"You are not the only one touched by this war. Like as not, my sister is marching in your brothers host, her and those daughters of hers, garmented in mens mail. Maege is a hoary old snark, stubborn, short-tempered, and willful. Truth be told, I can hardly stand to be around the wretched woman, but that does not mean my love for her is any less than the love you bear your half sisters.” Frowning, Mormont took his last egg and squeezed it in his fist until the shell crunched. â€Å"Or perhaps it does. Be that as it may, Id still grieve if she were slain, yet you dont see me running off. I said the words, just as you did. My place is here . . . where is yours, boy?”\r\nI have no place, Jon wanted to say, Im a bastard, I have no rights, no name, no mother, and now not even a father. The words would not come. â€Å"I dont know.”\r\nâ€Å"I do,” said Lord Commander Mormont. â€Å"The cold winds are rising, Snow. Beyond the Wall, t he shadows lengthen. Cotter Pyke writes of gigantic herds of elk, streaming south and east toward the sea, and mammoths as well. He says one of his men discovered huge, misshapen footprints not three leagues from Eastwatch. Rangers from the Shadow Tower have found whole villages abandoned, and at night Ser Denys says they see fires in the mountains, huge blazes that burn from dusk till dawn. Quorin Halfhand took a captive in the depths of the Gorge, and the man swears that Mance Rayder is massing all his state in some new, secret stronghold hes found, to what end the gods only know. Do you think your uncle Benjen was the only ranger weve lost this past year?”\r\nâ€Å"Ben Jen,” the raven squawked, bobbing its head, bits of egg dribbling from its beak. â€Å"Ben Jen. Ben Jen.”\r\nâ€Å"No,” Jon said. There had been others. Too many.\r\nâ€Å"Do you think your brothers war is more important than ours?” the old man barked.\r\nJon chewed his lip. The raven flapped its wings at him. â€Å"War, war, war, war,” it sang.\r\nâ€Å"Its not,” Mormont told him. â€Å"Gods save us, boy, youre not blind and youre not stupid. When dead men come hunting in the night, do you think it matters who sits the urge on Throne?”\r\nâ€Å"No.” Jon had not thought of it that way.\r\nâ€Å"Your lord father sent you to us, Jon. Why, who can say?”\r\nâ€Å"Why? Why? Why?” the raven called.\r\nâ€Å"All I know is that the blood of the First Men flows in the veins of the Starks. The First Men built the Wall, and its said they remember things otherwise forgotten. And that beast of yours . . . he led us to the wights, warned you of the dead man on the steps. Ser Jaremy would doubtless call that happenstance, yet Ser Jaremy is dead and Im not.” Lord Mormont stabbed a musket ball of ham with the point of his dagger. â€Å"I think you were meant to be here, and I want you and that wolf of yours with us when we go beyond the Wall.”\r\nHis words sent a cool down of excitement down Jons back. â€Å"Beyond the Wall?”\r\nâ€Å"You heard me. I mean to find Ben Stark, alive or dead.” He chewed and swallowed. â€Å"I will not sit here meekly and wait for the snows and the ice winds. We must know what is happening. This time the Nights Watch will ride in force, against the King-beyond-the-Wall, the Others, and anything else that may be out there. I mean to command them myself.” He pointed his dagger at Jons chest. â€Å"By custom, the Lord Commanders steward is his squire as well . . . but I do not care to wake every dawn enquire if youve run off again. So I will have an answer from you, Lord Snow, and I will have it now. Are you a brother of the Nights Watch . . . or only a bastard boy who wants to play at war?”\r\nJon Snow straightened himself and took a long deep breath. Forgive me, Father. Robb, Arya, Bran . . . forgive me, I cannot help you. He has the tru th of it. This is my place. â€Å"I am . . . yours, my lord. Your man. I swear it. I will not run again.”\r\nThe Old Bear snorted. â€Å"Good. Now go put on your sword.”\r\n'