Guys, this is a bonus chapter that I promised a long time ago. Back then I couldn't manage to write it, but better late than never, so enjoy.
Chapter 18
Year 102 A.C.
POV: Korr
Thormund had said there would be a duel today with the visitor, but I didn't expect this. The former chief of the tribe, Sten, introduced him as the new leader; he said he had been defeated by him in a fair duel when they met in the forest.
He called the man Denovan, the Black Beast. The man was tall and strong; his helmet was terrifying, looking like a steel demon, but that wasn't even the worst part. The most terrifying thing was the pitch-black beasts that followed him. He called them by names. Some members of the tribe whispered that they were saber-tooths, animals that hadn't been seen for many ages.
The beasts wore pieces of bronze armor. I heard that Denovan was the son of the Magnar of the Thenns, a powerful man, but when they announced that Jorik would fight, I was frightened. Our best warrior against the Black Beast... Jorik wouldn't lose if the combat were only between men, but if the stranger used those beasts, it would be a massacre.
"My name is Denovan, son of Sigorn, Magnar of the Thenns, and I did not challenge Jorik. I was challenged," his voice came muffled and potent from behind the metal. "But I am not viewing this as a simple challenge. Jorik had the audacity to try to steal my sister yesterday at dusk, to make her his wife."
I didn't understand at first. If Jorik was still alive after trying something like that against the blood of a Magnar, it was because he was strong enough to escape. So everything is fine, right? But, looking at the fresh scar on his face, I saw he didn't come out unscathed.
"He was defeated... but I do not say this to belittle him," Denovan continued, looking into Jorik's downcast eyes. "My sister is one of the best warriors of the Thenns. Losing to her is no shame; take it as a lesson."
The man paused; the silence in the village was so dense we could hear the snow falling.
"But there is something I will not tolerate. The Thenns no longer have such customs. We have changed; we have become better as time passed, and now you will be a reflection of that. Some customs must be maintained, like our honor and our warrior way, but we do not steal women. That is not how things work..." his voice became dangerously low. "...and one must not steal my sister."
I felt a shiver when those golden eyes passed over me.
"I consider myself a fair and honorable warrior, and as long as I am your leader, I will lead by example. I will teach you to forge steel and to have warmer clothes. I will give you opportunities. You will follow me and obey me. When the time comes, I will take you to a place worthy of a legend... but now is not the time."
Denovan took a step forward, his armor creaking. "This will not be just any duel. It will be a punishment for Jorik, and let it serve as an example to all of you: not even the best of your warriors is exempt from punishment."
The man took off his black bear cloak and handed it to a woman standing nearby. She was very beautiful and looked like him. I don't blame Jorik for trying to steal her; she was incredible, but she looked as dangerous as her brother.
"I will not use my bonds, out of respect for you. In the same way I did with the former leader, I will do now," he declared. This was something few did; a warg and his companion are one, but Denovan had many. It would indeed be unfair, but the world was never fair. Our new leader seemed to be.
I saw the man draw a beautiful axe from his back, the metal shining in a way I had never seen in stone or bronze.
"I will not lend a steel weapon to anyone else, unless they prove to be worthy of one," he sentenced.
"I heard that in the fight against the old chief, he gave him a steel weapon," whispered a woman behind me.
"All to be fair... he is a great warrior."
"I wish he would steal me," another commented, sighing.
"Didn't you hear? He said the Thenns don't do that anymore."
"Then how do they get married?"
I looked back and said, "He said the man has to speak with the woman's father and ask for his blessing."
"Just that?" the woman replied, sounding disappointed.
"That's what I heard."
As the conversation flowed, Denovan positioned himself. Some in the village called him the Black Knight, as he rode a giant horse with his dark armor. Others called him the Black Beast. He seemed to have stepped out of a legend to rule us.
POV: Jorik
My scar throbbed with every few breaths. The wound the girl's falcon gave me yesterday had been precise, but what truly stung was my pride. I was supposed to be the next leader of the Nightrunners! And now, here I was, about to be "punished" in front of all my people.
I looked at Denovan. He didn't look like a twelve-year-old boy. The way he held the axe, the relaxed but ready posture... he exuded a confidence I had only seen in apex predators.
"Old Sten, do you mind announcing the match?" Denovan asked.
Sten nodded, approaching the center of the snow circle.
"Are you ready?" he looked at me. I gripped the handle of my bone and stone axe, feeling cold sweat run down the scar on my face. I was terrified, yes, but there was a flicker of excitement. If I won... if I at least lasted long enough...
"Then, begin!" Sten shouted.
I didn't wait. I roared to scare away the fear and lunged, delivering a downward strike with all my strength. Denovan didn't retreat. He simply tilted his body; the stone axe passed inches from his chest, cutting only the cold air.
I tried to spin for a second attack, but before I could complete the movement, I felt a brutal impact in my stomach. It wasn't a cut. It was his fist.
"Ugh!" The air fled my lungs instantly. I fell to my knees, my vision blurring.
Too fast. How can he be so fast with all that metal on his body?
"Get up, Jorik," Denovan's voice was calm, almost bored. "A punishment does not end at the first blow."
Enraged, I stood up and began a sequence of desperate attacks. I struck with hatred, trying to break his guard. Denovan simply parried. Clang! Clang! Clang! The sound of my stone axe hitting his steel was as if I were striking a mountain. With every clash, my arms vibrated, and my bones felt like they were going to crack.
He was playing with me.
In a fluid movement, he dodged my axe and, using the haft of his weapon, struck my face, exactly on top of yesterday's wound. The pain was blinding. I screamed, staggering back.
"One more... and it's over," he said in a dry, cold manner.
I tried one last blow, a low lateral cut, but Denovan jumped lightly and, still in the air, delivered a kick that threw me onto my back in the snow. Before I could think of moving, I felt the weight of his boot on my chest, crushing my already injured ribs against the frozen ground.
The tip of the steel axe stopped millimeters from my healthy eye.
I looked up and saw his smile beneath the helm. His fangs seemed larger, sharper. His golden eyes glowed with a predatory satisfaction that almost made me wet myself. That wasn't a man there. It was a beast wearing human skin.
"Do you understand now, Jorik?" he hissed, his hot breath coming through the slits of the helmet. "What is mine, no one touches. What I rule, I protect. And if I have to break every bone in your body for you to learn to obey... I will do it with a smile on my face."
He withdrew his foot, leaving me coughing blood in the snow.
"It's over. Take him to be tended to," Denovan ordered, turning his back as if I were nothing more than a nuisance.
I looked at the gray sky, feeling the excruciating pain, but something changed inside me. The fear was still there, but the respect was greater. We didn't just have a new leader. We had a beast leading us.
POV: Denovan
"Humm... I think he learned," I thought, wiping the snow from my axe.
I walked over to Sigrid, who handed me the cloak with a look of approval, though she still had that pout of irritation from yesterday.
"Exaggerated," she murmured.
"You know I don't accept anything less than that, Sig," I replied playfully, feeling my blood boiling from the adrenaline.
I looked at the Nightrunners. They were in silence, but it wasn't the silence of hatred. It was a respectful silence.
"Sten! Choose some men. And meet me at my cabin; I have something for you."
The man nodded and vanished into the crowd.
"Let's go, Sig. Today is going to be a long day..."
A few minutes later...
There were seven men ready for battle inside my tent—Sten and the men I had requested.
"This is the boy you spoke of," he said, placing his hand on the youth's shoulder. "His name is Thormund. This other one here is Korr, and this is..."
He continued introducing the warriors, but two caught my attention: one was Thormund, whom I found somewhat funny, and Korr seemed to be afraid of me. That gave me mixed feelings; I didn't know if I should feel proud or sad for projecting that image.
"As old Sten might have told you... we are going to Hardhome. Have you heard of it?"
Korr summoned his courage. "The ruin of a cursed city. They say souls wander that place."
"That is a lie... the real monsters wander even further north, in lands even more freezing than this one where we live."
They all looked at me as if I were mad.
"What I said is true... but that is not the point now. We will go from tribe to tribe, uniting them under my banner. When we reach Hardhome, we will build the foundation of our future home. And when it is ready, we will fetch your families."
I paused, locking eyes with each of them. "It will take years. Some of us may die. But I promise we will be remembered as legends. If you lack courage, leave now. I swear by the Old Gods I will do nothing; another warrior will take the place. If you have doubts, go."
No one moved.
"Great. But we aren't leaving yet. I will show you a few things so you can teach the rest of the village. Old man... do you have bronze?"
"We have a little, but not in weapons, just raw stones; we can't make good weapons like the Thenns."
"Oh, at least you have it. I will teach you how to set up the forge... you just have to find more later."
I spent the next four days teaching the basics. In the end, we set up the forge. Since it was made for steel, it melted the bronze with ease. I showed them how to make stone molds for the metal. They were enthusiastic. I tried to convince them to use shoes to protect their feet, but they stubbornly insisted they didn't want to waste skins on that. I didn't push.
In the middle of the fifth day, we set out. The journey would be slow, as only Sig and I had horses. We headed toward the next clan, outside the Haunted Forest. According to Muninn's memories, it wasn't that far and seemed larger than the Nightrunners' clan.
And according to Horus's eyes, he counted about 900 people. Well, I considered that, allowing for a 10% margin of error either way. After all, as intelligent as he was, he was still far from perfect.
A good acquisition. If the Thenns were 5,000, and I planned a coalition of 30,000 to 40,000 people... I wonder what the "peace lover," King Viserys, will do when he hears of me. Declare war? Ask us to be a new House of Westeros? Or stay silent? Send Daemon to confront me? That would be very interesting.
Be that as it may, it is still too early for those concerns. First, I need my army and my city. But what I want most of all is ships—to sail the high seas, singing songs, exploring lands; what man has never dreamed of that?
"Denovan, what does the word 'Thirst' mean?" Sig's voice cut through my daydreams.
Sig was taking learning the Common Tongue seriously; she hated being left out.
"It means 'Sede'. Have you learned many words already?"
"Just a few. It's very hard to memorize them all," she said, scratching the back of her neck.
"With time you'll get used to it. I'll teach you the basics first. Say: 'Amazing younger brother'."
"'Amazing younger brother'... what does it mean?"
"It means: 'Incrível irmão mais novo'," I said proudly.
"Brat... teach me things I'll actually say," Sig replied with disdain.
"My sister is learning to talk back to me... she's growing up..."
"Don't talk as if you're older than me..." she said with her usual short fuse.
And so, a week passed...
-/-/-
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