Two weeks later the royal party finally departed south and Ethan's journey north to the Wall officially began after he linked up with Tyrion Lannister.
Starting from Winterfell and traveling north along the Kingsroad they would reach Castle Black headquarters of the Night's Watch.
Tyrion estimated the trip would take roughly twenty days to a month.
Frankly it wasn't very far.
But the weather around Winterfell at that time behaved like a young couple in their seventh-year itch—constantly dusting everything with light snow just to create a little drama.
And the farther north they went the colder it would become.
Therefore Ethan—who fully understood the principle of "prepare for the journey even when poor"—made thorough preparations for the trip.
He not only spent coin to buy thick fur cloaks for Kevin and Lennar he also sourced an old but sturdy carriage from town to carry a large quantity of food supplies and personal gear entrusting the driving to Lennar who—with his missing finger—could no longer comfortably ride horseback.
Traveling by carriage was far more comfortable than riding—an experience Ethan had first appreciated while escorting the Colbert family caravan.
Tyrion was clearly a clever man.
When he saw Ethan hand "Lightning" to Kevin to lead while climbing into the carriage himself Tyrion took advantage of his small stature and squeezed in beside him.
Seeing Tyrion reading in the swaying carriage Ethan kindly reminded him:
"Lord Tyrion reading in a moving carriage isn't good for your eyes."
Tyrion looked up from his book.
"So?"
Ethan extended his hand.
"Give me a book. I'll help share the load."
"Heh." Tyrion sneered and handed the volume directly to Ethan. "Be careful—I borrowed this from Lord Eddard's library. I have to return it when we get back."
Ethan casually glanced at the pages—a treatise on dragons—then closed it and tucked it behind his back.
"Didn't Lord Eddard ride south with the king to become Hand of the King?"
Tyrion laughed.
"Do you think Lord Eddard spends his days in the library dusting books with a feather duster?
That's Septon Chayle's job—he manages the Stark library.
Judging by the condition of these volumes I suspect Lord Eddard visits brothels far more often than he visits his own bookshelves."
Ethan pointed out seriously:
"I've heard the duke is a very good man who never goes to brothels."
Tyrion pointed back at Ethan.
"Ha!"
Ethan changed the subject.
"How many men are in the Night's Watch now?"
Tyrion calculated briefly.
"I've heard roughly a thousand—scattered like pepper along three hundred miles of Wall.
Honestly I don't know who they're supposed to guard against with numbers like that."
"I heard from Lennar that during Aegon's time the Night's Watch once numbered in the tens of thousands?"
"Tens of thousands is true… but probably only two or three thousand were actual rangers capable of fighting.
Any more than that and the southern lords would have grown nervous."
Hearing this Ethan vaguely realized that—if a real crisis ever erupted in the North—the Night's Watch would likely not be a reliable force.
It wasn't a question of loyalty—just an objective assessment of their current strength.
After all the only ranger Ethan currently recognized was Benjen Stark—who traveled with them but always kept a stern face and refused to speak to him.
Ethan said worriedly:
"Since ancient times border troops have always been the hardest-working most exhausted and yet most vital force.
If the realm ignores them I'm afraid that when something unexpected happens they won't be able to mount a hasty defense."
Tyrion remained noncommittal.
"Do you really think defending against northern wildlings relies on those thugs bandits and rapists?
No—it relies on that towering Wall.
If the wildlings ever launched a large-scale invasion it would ultimately fall to the northern lords to deal with them."
Wildlings wildlings—it seemed everyone viewed the only threat beyond the Wall as those free folk who didn't even possess thirteen armies of iron armor.
And the White Walkers? Were they really so insignificant?
"What about the White Walkers?
If they can't be kept beyond the Wall once they break through and reach the North they'll kill resurrect the dead and kill again…
It won't take long before it becomes an avalanche sweeping across the entire continent."
Tyrion's eyes widened in surprise.
"Ethan—you're not *seriously* planning to capture a White Walker are you? I thought you were joking."
Ethan shrugged.
"If I succeed—that would be great.
If I don't—even better.
If I get the chance I'd love to travel beyond the Wall."
Tyrion gestured toward Benjen Stark riding at the front of the column.
"You'll have to discuss that with First Ranger Benjen—he's Night's Watch.
But you'll have to handle it yourself. He harbors a deep prejudice against Lannisters."
Ethan frowned.
"Wait—I'm just a mercenary escort.
He hates *you*—does he hate *me* too?"
"He even hates the golden dragons minted from Westerlands gold—don't you think?"
At that moment Ethan realized that building a good relationship with Benjen Stark would be crucial to achieving his goal on this journey.
So when they made camp that evening Ethan carried a pot of his secret-recipe smoked-meat soup to the fire where Benjen and Jon sat.
"Ranger Benjen—this is smoked-meat soup I made myself using a recipe from my homeland.
It tastes incredible—you've definitely never had anything like it.
If you don't mind please try some."
Benjen and Jon both came from noble houses and were hopeless cooks; what they prepared was merely edible and filling.
A rich savory aroma rose from the pot.
Jon instinctively reached for his bowl but his uncle stopped him.
Benjen asked expressionlessly:
"Did Tyrion send you?
Just say what you want—I certainly can't help."
Ethan sat cross-legged beside them.
"I promised to protect Tyrion Lannister in exchange for the chance to travel with him to the Wall.
It's a transaction between him and me—I'm not his servant and he's not my master.
If Ranger Benjen has any grievances with the Lannisters… well I have plenty of my own.
If you want to curse them I'll applaud.
I just want to see the Wall."
Aside from Tyrion Ethan genuinely disliked the Lannisters.
Benjen studied Ethan for a long moment then silently placed his bowl beneath the small iron pot.
"The Wall is nothing but a pile of cold stone and ice.
The men who guard it are just poor homeless wretches.
There's nothing worth seeing."
Ethan shook his head ladled thick soup into Benjen's and Jon's bowls and said sincerely:
"Regardless of the reason any man who swears an oath to defend his country's border deserves respect."
Benjen remained noncommittal but didn't argue.
He lifted his bowl took a sip of the steaming broth and nodded once.
"It's good."
Ethan smiled.
"Traveling the world for years—one must learn to take care of his own stomach."
Jon Snow—who had been standing nearby—asked:
"Are you a mercenary?
Are you really from Seris—that eastern kingdom?"
Ethan asked curiously:
"How did you know?
Have you also heard the tale of *Red Star Over China*?"
"When Theon takes Robb to the tavern he sometimes brings me along."
Jon pointed toward Lennar who was organizing supplies.
"I've heard him tell a few stories—and the one about Virkon Seris shares your surname."
Ethan admitted:
"According to tradition in my homeland Seris folk who travel abroad always take the surname Seris.
Actually King Virkon's true surname in my homeland is 'Sun.'"
"And yours?"
"Me?" Ethan hesitated a moment then answered:
"For certain reasons I was expelled from my family and forbidden to use a surname—unless one day I achieve something worthy."
Hearing Ethan's reply Jon seemed to think of something and his earlier enthusiasm dimmed noticeably.
Benjen glanced at his nephew then asked Ethan:
"Your soup is good and warming.
Is there anything else?"
His intention to dismiss Ethan was clear.
Ethan glanced at the sky then poured the last of the broth into their bowls.
"No—I just came to chat and make friends.
There's an old saying in my homeland: 'Many friends many roads; more friends make the path easier.'"
Benjen nodded lowered his head and continued drinking his soup.
Though he remained taciturn Ethan knew this was a good beginning.
Sure enough the next day Ethan again used his cooking skills to prepare a generous meal sufficient for five people.
When he invited Benjen and Jon to join them they did not refuse.
Two days later Tyrion joined the feast bringing two servants and fine wine he had carried all the way from Casterly Rock.
Though Chief Ranger Benjen didn't look particularly pleased he didn't leave either.
The three separate campfires gradually merged into one large blaze.
Delicious food combined with Lennar's desolate yet magnetic voice made the originally cold and tedious journey far more bearable.
That night Lennar sang a ballad recounting the Targaryen conquest of the Seven Kingdoms.
Hearing the vivid descriptions of dragons Ethan couldn't help asking curiously:
"Do dragons really exist?"
The Targaryen line had been extinct for over a decade and dragons had vanished from Westeros long before their fall.
No one present could give a certain answer.
After a moment of silence Tyrion shrugged.
"They did exist…
When I was a child I visited King's Landing and saw nineteen dragon skeletons in a basement of the Red Keep—a collection of the Targaryen family.
Of course not all were full-grown dragons… among them were two deformed hatchlings not much bigger than Jon Snow's Ghost."
Ghost was Jon's direwolf—a direwolf pup and quite large even so.
Chief Ranger Benjen added:
"But even those two hatchlings you mentioned were from nearly a century and a half ago.
Since they first landed on this continent Targaryen dragons grew weaker with each generation—just like their descendants."
Tyrion shook his head.
"Ranger Benjen—the Targaryens aren't necessarily as terrible as you think.
Even the Mad King Aerys in his youth was spirited and tried to rule well.
It was simply that losing the power of dragons placed unbearable pressure on the Targaryen family—finally shattering the Mad King's fragile mind."
"Nervous tension—that's all it took for him to do those mad things…
My brother Jaime once told me that at the very end of Robert's Rebellion the Mad King Aerys wanted to burn the entire city of King's Landing to ash with wildfire."
Benjen scoffed.
"Hmph. A child born of incest—no matter what he experiences the evil in his blood will always corrupt his brain."
Since Benjen's father and elder brother had both died at the Mad King's command Tyrion had no desire to pursue the topic further.
He simply said "Who can argue?" and let the subject drop.
Although Ethan didn't know all the tangled loves and hatreds among these great houses he could sense the atmosphere turning tense so he gave Lennar a subtle look.
Lennar understood immediately and took over the storytelling:
"Speaking of dragons—our great King Virkon Seris once followed Brother Cherion to a small country called the Kingdom of Chickens…"
As Lennar spun the tale the recently popular figure of Brother Cherion flew like a cheerful little bird through the camp dispersing the heavy mood.
Even Chief Ranger Benjen—who usually showed impatience—suppressed it and listened quietly.
After all the Wall was far too distant too cold and too poor—even bards rarely came.
It was a rare chance to hear fresh stories and Benjen didn't want his own mood to spoil it.
At least one day in the future when he led his rangers on patrol beyond the Wall he could sit around a campfire like this and share new tales from the south with his men.
Even if he died in the frozen forest he would have fewer regrets.
After several days together though Chief Ranger Benjen still refused to speak directly to Tyrion Lannister his impression of Ethan—who was a good cook and traveled with a skilled bard—had warmed considerably.
During the day he even became willing to ride alongside Ethan and talk about past experiences.
From their casual conversations Ethan realized Benjen was deeply curious about the life of a wandering mercenary.
That evening Ethan shared some carefully selected stories from Azeroth with the group.
He recounted his early adventures in Westfall in the Eastern Kingdoms—back when he was still a young inexperienced warrior (around level 10).
The main Westfall storyline was one Ethan had completed when he first started playing *World of Warcraft* as a human warrior.
It told of how during the Black Dragonflight's reign of terror the human kingdom of Stormwind had been ravaged leaving Westfall—the kingdom's granary—in ruins and its people suffering greatly.
It also recounted how the folk of Westfall under militia leader Gryan Stoutmantle resolutely fought back against evil forces and ultimately triumphed.
In the story Ethan had played a young green soldier tasked with delivering a letter to his superior only to become embroiled in the conflict—experiencing everything from murdered farmers to the storming of the Deadmines.
The tale was full of twists and turns leaving everyone amazed.
Lennar marveled that Captain Ethan Cole was truly an inexhaustible gold mine—with just a little effort new stories could be pulled out endlessly.
When the tale ended everyone present cheered VanCleef's death—except for Tyrion's rarely speaking servant Morris who grumbled:
"Your king is so unfair!
Such a massive rebuilding project—and he didn't pay a single coin!
How are the workers who helped build the walls supposed to go home and feed their wives and children?"
This time it was Ethan's turn to reply calmly:
"You're right."
It was ironic really—when you looked at everyone around the fire each was in some way a disappointed man.
Jon Snow—the bastard son despised by his father's lawful wife—had taken the black before ever knowing a woman; Tyrion Lannister—the motherless dwarf second son scorned by his father; Ethan—a wandering sellsword stripped of his family name and cast out; Kevin Turner—the second son driven from home before coming of age and forced to risk his life for coin; Lennar—a homeless commoner bard; Jack and Morris—middle-aged servants assigned to the unloved second son by their master.
Among them Benjen Stark—the youngest son of a great house who had lost both parents early voluntarily taken the black and possessed neither wife children nor lands—was surprisingly the most successful.
Once this fact was noticed and with Ethan leading the good-natured jeering Benjen was forced to buy the next round of drinks.
Sober he even became willing to talk with Tyrion—leading Tyrion to half-jokingly suspect the man had been possessed by some northern ghost.
Later in the journey however Benjen received twenty extra horses that needed to be delivered to the Wall.
He had to spend considerable time each day tending the animals which forced him to miss the nightly storytelling.
In his place came a black brother known as "Raven" Yoren who had joined the column midway.
"Raven" wasn't a personal nickname like the Hound the Mountain or the Kingslayer—it was a position responsible for the Night's Watch's external communications and collecting "voluntary" supplies from lords of every rank.
Replenishing manpower was a major part of that duty.
This time Yoren brought two convicted "rapists" collected from the Fingers Peninsula.
Upon hearing this Ethan quietly asked Kevin whether he knew them.
Kevin snorted in disgust.
"No."
He added: "Teacher—don't tell anyone I'm from the Fingers Peninsula.
I don't want people associating me with them."
Finally after nearly a month of traveling through biting northern winds Ethan and his apprentice reached the magnificent Wall.
The moment Ethan laid eyes on it he froze.
Kevin asked worriedly:
"Teacher—what's wrong?"
"I… I smell magic."
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