Chapter 52 – The Corpse
Castle Black, the Wall
Inside the council chamber at Castle Black, Eddard Stark, Saelen, Robb, Jeor Mormont, and Maester Aemon Targaryen sat in heavy silence, each holding a letter.
"So the Iron Throne isn't sending us a single sack of grain?" Saelen said at last, his tone edged with mockery. "They've coin enough to host tourneys, but none to feed the Wall."
Eddard replied evenly, "The letter says the Crown has sent ravens to the great lords, requesting they provide supplies."
He turned to Maester Aemon. "Have any responses arrived?"
"Only two," the old maester answered regretfully. "One from Riverrun, one from the Eyrie."
He handed the letters over.
Eddard read them carefully, the tight lines in his brow easing slightly. "Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun and Lord Jon Arryn of the Eyrie have each pledged grain, weapons, and horses. The shipments are already en route. We are to prepare to receive them."
He paused before continuing. "The Iron Throne is also dispatching blacksmiths and stonemasons. They should arrive soon. With these supplies, we can hold for a time."
The mood in the room lightened, if only slightly.
"Lord Commander," Eddard said to Mormont, "Castle Black must make ready to store both supplies and men."
"I've already ordered space cleared," Mormont replied with a nod. "We'll be ready."
Eddard continued, "I've also sent word to Lord Manderly at White Harbor to organize a fleet to purchase additional grain and provisions. Combined with what's coming, it should suffice."
Saelen felt a flicker of irritation. The Others threatened all mankind—yet it was the North that bled coin and men while southern lords looked on from a comfortable distance.
When that matter was settled, Eddard produced another letter.
"This one is from Benjen Stark," he said. "He has reached Mance Rayder safely. However, the Free Folk are gathering slowly. At the Frostfangs, only thirty to forty thousand have assembled so far. Many are still scattered."
He looked up grimly. "Mance has rejected the proposal of entering the Wall in stages. He insists on bringing all his people through at once."
Robb's expression darkened. "He clearly doesn't trust us."
"He's cautious—and cunning," Mormont warned. "Our rangers hunted him for years and never caught him. If we are to work with him, we must tread carefully."
The fire crackled in the hearth, but the chill in the chamber lingered. Outside, the Wall loomed—silent, ancient, and waiting.
Eddard nodded in agreement, then continued, "Benjen also writes that Mance Rayder has not abandoned his search for the Horn of Winter. The Free Folk are nearly tearing the Frostfangs apart looking for it."
Saelen shrugged lightly. "Let him search. Better it fall into his hands than the Others'. He's a clever man. Even if he finds the horn, he won't be foolish enough to sound it and bring the Wall down. At most, he'll use it as leverage in negotiations."
The others considered this and found it reasonable. If Mance truly destroyed the Wall, the Seven Kingdoms would suffer—and with no Wall to shield them, where could the Free Folk flee?
Benjen, now something neither wholly living nor wholly dead, could not pass through the Wall's ancient magic. After reaching Castle Black earlier, he had parted from them and returned to Mance with his mission.
Before Benjen left, Saelen had given him all the remaining dragonglass weapons to pass on to Mance—part of their agreement. There were not many left, only enough for emergencies. Benjen had also taken several cages of ravens to maintain communication between the two sides.
Just then, a black brother rushed into the hall, breathless.
"Lord Commander—something's happened. The new recruits were swearing their vows at the heart tree beyond the Wall. They found a ranger's body."
Faces hardened. Leaving Maester Aemon behind, the rest hurried out beyond the Wall toward the weirwood.
Saelen mounted quickly and rode with them. When they arrived, the recruits stood pale and whispering nervously.
Jeor Mormont strode forward. "Where is the body? How did you find it?"
One recruit stepped out. "Jeremy found it. He—ah—had to relieve himself and stumbled across it." He pointed to a frightened youth.
"Lead the way," Mormont ordered.
They followed the recruits into a nearby grove. Not far in, they saw it.
A corpse lay on the frozen ground, clad in the black of the Night's Watch. The clothing was torn and shredded, marked with blade wounds. The body was stiff with cold. Its ice-blue eyes stared unblinking at the sky.
Saelen stepped forward and nudged it with his boot. No response.
It had not yet risen.
A thought flickered in his mind.
One of the rangers, seeing Saelen unharmed, forced himself closer and then gasped. "That's Owen Rivers. When we went searching for Qhorin Halfhand, his was the only squad that never returned. We heard nothing after that."
Mormont stepped closer. "You're certain?"
The ranger nodded firmly. "I'd know him anywhere. The bastard still owes me coin."
Robb spoke up at once. "Lord Commander, we should burn the body now."
Eddard, who had been studying the corpse closely, found its appearance disturbingly similar to the old tales of wights. His expression grew grim. "We should."
Mormont hesitated only briefly. "Jasper—gather wood. Prepare a pyre."
"Wait," Saelen said sharply. "This corpse may yet serve a purpose. We should keep it."
Everyone turned to stare at him.
Eddard, who understood Saelen was not one for reckless ideas, asked calmly, "What are you thinking?"
Saelen took a breath before speaking. "Before I explain—tell me this. Do you want the southern lords' full support? Their men and resources?"
Eddard exchanged a glance with Mormont, then nodded. "Of course. Speak."
Saelen pointed at the corpse. "Chain it. Bring it back to Castle Black. Tonight, I'll keep watch myself. If it rises, we take it south—put it before the great lords with their own eyes. Let them see what truly waits beyond the Wall."
He paused.
"Once they witness it, I doubt they'll hesitate to provide coin and soldiers."
The idea was bold—dangerous—but the more they considered it, the more sense it made.
"And if they still refuse?" Theon asked.
Saelen spread his hands. "Then we're all finished anyway."
Mormont frowned. "If it's taken south and raises more dead?"
"It's a wight," Saelen assured him. "It cannot raise the dead. Only the Others can do that."
After a long moment, Mormont gave a slow nod.
The corpse was bound in heavy iron chains and carried back to Castle Black.