'A Game of Thrones Chapter Forty-eight\r'

'Jon\r\nJon was breaking his fast on applecakes and blood sausage when surface-to-air missilewell Tarly plopped himself agglomerate on the bench. â€Å"Ive been summ atomic number 53d to the sept,” surface-to-air missile express in an excited whisper. â€Å"Theyre passing me come to the fore of training. Im to be do a br separate with the succor of you. Can you believe it?”\r\nâ€Å"No, truly?”\r\nâ€Å"Truly. Im to assist Maester Aemon with the library and the birds. He needs just ab extinctone who can get enfold and write letters.”\r\nâ€Å"Youll do well at that,” Jon say, smiling.\r\nsurface-to-air missile glanced about anxiously. â€Å"Is it time to go? I shouldnt be late, they world power change their minds.” He was fairly bounciness as they crossed the weed-strewn courtyard. The day was warm and fair weatherny. Rivulets of piddle trickled down the faces of the W completely, so the ice line upmed to sparkle and shine.\r\n inner the sept, the great crystal caught the morning blithesome as it streamed through with(p tearingicate) the south-facing window and spread it in a rainbow on the altar. Pyps tattle dropped pioneer when he caught bundle of surface-to-air missile, and Toad poked Grenn in the ribs, but no one d sock place a word. Septon Celladar was swinging a censer, change the air with fragrant incense that reminded Jon of Lady Starks subatomic sept in Winterfell. For once the septon seemed sober.\r\nThe high officers arrived in a body; Maester Aemon leaning on Clydas, Ser Alliser dispassionate and grim, cleric air force officer Mormont respl final stageent in a glowering wool doublet with silvered bearclaw fastenings. Behind them came the senior members of the triplet orders: red-faced Bowen fen the Lord Steward, branch builder Othell Yarwyck, and Ser J atomic number 18my Rykker, who commanded the fire wardens in the absence of Benjen Stark.\r\nMormont stood before the altar, the rainbow shining on his broad bald judgment. â€Å"You came to us outlaws,” he began, â€Å"poachers, rapers, debtors, killers, and thieves. You came to us children. You came to us alone, in manacles, with uncomplete friends nor reward. You came to us rich, and you came to us poor. Some of you bear the names of proud houses. Others guard however bastards names, or no names at solely. It makes no matter. All that is prehistoric now. On the ring, we argon wholly one house.\r\nâ€Å"At evenfall, as the sun sets and we face the gathering nighttime, you shall government issue your vows. From that moment, you will be a Sworn Brother of the Nights ascertain. Your crimes will be deadened away(p), your debts forgiven. So too you must wash away your former loyalties, put aside your grudges, finishing-fitting up grey-headed incorrectlys and doddery loves a comparable. Here you begin anew.\r\nâ€Å"A man of the Nights succeed lives his life for the realm. Not for a king, nor a lord, nor the honor of this house or that house, neither for gold nor glory nor a womans love, but for the realm, and all the people in it. A man of the Nights Watch takes no wife and fathers no sons. Our wife is duty. Our woman of the street is honor. And you are the only sons we shall ever know.\r\nâ€Å"You have well-educated the manner of speaking of the vow. Think carefully before you grade them, for once you have taken the black, t here(predicate) is no turning back. The penalty for desertion is death.” The old(a) patronage paused for a moment before he said, â€Å" be there both among you who wish to leave our attach to? If so, go now, and no one shall abridgek the little of you.”\r\nNo one moved.\r\nâ€Å"Well and good,” said Mormont. â€Å"You may take your vows here at evenfall, before Septon Celladar and the set-back of your order. Do any of you keep to the old gods?”\r\nJon stood. â€Å"I do, my lord.”\r\nâ⠂¬Å"I expect you will want to enounce your words before a heart tree, as your uncle did,” Mormont said.\r\nâ€Å"Yes, my lord,” Jon said. The gods of the sept had nothing to do with him; the blood of the First Men flowed in the veins of the Starks.\r\nHe comprehend Grenn murmuring behind him. â€Å"Theres no godswood here. Is there? I neer saw a godswood.”\r\nâ€Å"You wouldnt see a drove of aurochs until they trampled you into the snow,” Pyp whispered back.\r\nâ€Å"I would so,” Grenn insisted. â€Å"Id see them a long way off.”\r\nMormont himself confirmed Grenns doubts. â€Å"Castle low-spirited has no need of a godswood. Beyond the argue the haunted forest stands as it stood in the imbue Age, long before the Andals brought the Seven across the undertake sea. You will find a woodlet of weirwoods half(prenominal) a league from this spot, and mayhap your gods as well.”\r\nâ€Å"My lord.” The verbalize make Jon glance back in surp go on. Samwell Tarly was on his feet. The fat male child wiped his sweaty palms against his tunic. â€Å"Might I . . . might I go as well? To say my words at this heart tree?”\r\nâ€Å"Does shack Tarly keep the old gods too?” Mormont asked.\r\nâ€Å"No, my lord,” Sam replied in a thin, nervous voice. The high officers frightened him, Jon knew, the Old declare most of all. â€Å"I was named in the fainthearted of the Seven at the sept on pierce Hill, as my father was, and his father, and all the Tarlys for a jet years.”\r\nâ€Å"Why would you forsake the gods of your father and your House?” wondered Ser Jaremy Rykker.\r\nâ€Å"The Nights Watch is my House now,” Sam said. â€Å"The Seven have never answered my prayers. Perhaps the old gods will.”\r\nâ€Å"As you wish, boy,” Mormont said. Sam took his basis again, as did Jon. â€Å"We have placed severally of you in an order, as befits our need and your own strengths and skills.” Bowen Marsh stepped transport and handed him a paper. The Lord Commander unrolled it and began to read. â€Å"Haider, to the builders,” he began. Haider gave a stiff nod of approval. â€Å"Grenn, to the rangers. Albett, to the builders. Pypar, to the rangers.” Pyp looked over at Jon and wiggled his ears. â€Å"Samwell, to the stewards.” Sam sagged with relief, mopping at his brow with,a put away of silk. â€Å" monotonichar, to the rangers. Dareon, to the stewards. Todder, to the rangers. Jon, to the stewards.”\r\nThe stewards? For a moment Jon could not believe what he had perceive. Mormont must have read it wrong. He started to rise, to open his mouth, to tell them there had been a mistake . . . and and so he saw Ser Alliser studying him, heart and souls showy as twain flakes of obsidian, and he knew.\r\nThe Old Bear rolled up the paper. â€Å"Your firsts will instruct you in your duties. May all the gods preserve yo u, brothers.” The Lord Commander favored them with a half bow, and took his leave. Ser Alliser went with him, a thin smile on his face. Jon had never seen the master-at-arms took kinda so happy.\r\nâ€Å"Rangers with me,” Ser Jaremy Rykker called when they were gone. Pyp was staring at Jon as he got slow to his feet. His ears were red. Grenn, grinning broadly, did not seem to realize that anything was amiss. Matt and Toad fell in beside them, and they followed Ser Jaremy from the sept.\r\nâ€Å"Builders,” announced prognathous Othell Yarwyck. Haider and Albett trailed out after him.\r\nJon looked around him in mordant disbelief. Maester Aemons blind eyes were raised toward the light he could not see. The septon was arranging crystals on the altar. Only Sam and Darcon remained on the benches; a fat boy, a utterer . . . and him.\r\nLord Steward Bowen Marsh rubbed his plump detention together. â€Å"Samwell, you will assist Maester Aemon in the rookery and lib rary. Chett is going to the kennels, to ease with the hounds. You shall have his cell, so as to be close to the maester night and day. I trust you will take good care of him. He is very old and very precious to us.\r\nâ€Å"Dareon, I am told that you sang at many a high lords fudge and shared their meat and mead. We are sending you to Eastwatch. It may be your palate will be some help to Cotter Pyke when merchant galleys come trading. We are paying too dear for salt shout and pickled fish, and the quality of the olive oil were getting has been frightful, Present yourself to Borcas when you arrive, he will keep you grouchy between ships.”\r\nMarsh turned his smile on Jon. â€Å"Lord Commander Mormont has requested you for his personal steward, Jon. Youll calmness in a cell on a lower floor his chambers, in the Lord Commanders tower.”\r\nâ€Å"And what will my duties be?” Jon asked sharply. â€Å"Will I serve the Lord Commanders meals, help him fasten his c lothes, introduce hot water for his bath?”\r\nâ€Å"Certainly.” Marsh frowned at Jons tone. â€Å"And you will run his messages, keep a flack burning in his chambers, change his sheets and blankets daily, and do all else that the Lord Commander might require of you.”\r\n â€Å"Do you take me for a servant?”\r\nâ€Å"No,” Maester Aemon said, from the back of the sept. Clydas helped him stand. â€Å"We took you for a man of the Nights Watch . . . but perhaps we were wrong in that.”\r\nIt was all Jon could do to stop himself from travel out. Was he supposed to churn butter and fix doublets like a little girl for the rest of his geezerhood? â€Å"May I go?” he asked stiffly.\r\nâ€Å"As you wish,” Bowen Marsh responded.\r\nDareon and Sam left with him. They descended to the yard in silence. Outside, Jon looked up at the Wall shining in the sun, the melting ice creeping down its side in a hundred thin riffs. Jons offense was such that he would have smashed it all in an instant, and the world be damned.\r\nâ€Å"Jon,” Samwell Tarly said excitedly. â€Å"Wait. Dont you see what theyre doing?”\r\nJon turned on him in a fury. â€Å"I see Ser Allisers bloody hand, thats all I see. He cherished to shame me, and he has.”\r\nDareon gave him a look. â€Å"The stewards are fine for the likes of you and me, Sam, but not for Lord Snow.”\r\nâ€Å"Im a better swordsman and a better rider than any of you,” Jon blazed back. â€Å"Its not fair!”\r\nâ€Å"Fair?” Dareon sneered. â€Å"The girl was waiting for me, naked as the day she was born. She perpetrateed me through the window, and you talk to me of fair?” He walked off.\r\nâ€Å"There is no shame in being a steward,” Sam said.\r\nâ€Å"Do you think I want to cast the rest of my life washing an old mans smallclothes?”\r\nâ€Å"The old man is Lord Commander of the Nights Watch,” Sam remin ded him. â€Å"Youll be with him day and night. Yes, youll pour his wine and see that his bed linen is fresh, but youll also take his letters, look him at meetings, squire for him in battle. Youll be as close to him as his bottom. Youll know everything, be a part of everything . . . and the Lord Steward said Mormont asked for you himself!\r\nâ€Å"When I was little, my father used to insist that I run into him in the au proceednce chamber whenever he held court. When he rode to Highgarden to bend his knee to Lord Tyrell, he make me come. Later, though, he started to take Dickon and leave me at home, and he no longer cared whether I sat through his audiences, so long as Dickon was there. He wanted his heir at his side, dont you see? To watch and list and learn from all he did. Ill wager thats wherefore Lord Mormont requested you, Jon. What else could it be? He wants to do you for command!”\r\nJon was taken aback. It was true, Lord Eddard had often made Robb part of his councils back at Winterfell. Could Sam be right? Even a bastard could rise high in the Nights Watch, they said. â€Å"I never asked for this,” he said stubbornly.\r\nâ€Å"None of us are here for asking,” Sam reminded him.\r\nAnd abruptly Jon Snow was ashamed.\r\nCraven or not, Samwell Tarly had found the courage to accept his fate like a man. On the Wall, a man gets only what he earns, Benjen Stark had said the last night Jon had seen him alive. Youre no ranger, Jon, only a green boy with the smell of summer still on you. Hed heard it said that bastards grow up faster than other children; on the Wall, you grew up or you died.\r\nJon let out a deep sigh. â€Å"You have the right of it. I was acting the boy.”\r\nâ€Å"Then youll stay and say your words with me?”\r\nâ€Å"The old gods will be expecting us.” He made himself smile.\r\nThey set out late that afternoon. The Wall had no gates as such, neither here at Castle Black nor anywhere along its one-third hundred miles. They led their horses down a change tunnel cut through the ice, cold smuggled walls pressing in around them as the transportation system twisted and turned. Three times their way was occlude by iron bars, and they had to stop while Bowen Marsh drew out his keys and unlocked the massive chains that secured them. Jon could sense the vast weight pressing down on him as he waited behind the Lord Steward. The air was colder than a tomb, and more still. He matte up a strange relief when they reemerged into the afternoon light on the north side of the Wall.\r\nSam blinked at the sudden glare and looked around apprehensively. â€Å"The wildlings . . . they wouldnt . . . theyd never hold up come this close to the Wall. Would they?”\r\nâ€Å"They never have.” Jon climbed into his saddle. When Bowen Marsh and their ranger escort had mounted, Jon put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. Ghost came loping out of the tunnel.\r\nThe Lord Stewards garr on whickered and backed away from the dire woman chaser. â€Å"Do you mean to take that beast?”\r\nâ€Å"Yes, my lord,” Jon said. Ghosts head lifted. He seemed to taste the air. In the blink of an eye he was off, racing across the broad, weed-choked field to pilot in the trees.\r\nOnce they had entered the forest, they were in a polar world. Jon had often hunted with his father and Jory and his brother Robb. He knew the wolfswood around Winterfell as well as any man. The haunted forest was much the same, and yet the olfactory property of it was very different.\r\nPerhaps it was all in the knowing. They had ridden past the end of the world; somehow that changed everything. Every shadow seemed darker, every sound more ominous. The trees pressed close and shut out the light of the setting sun. A thin crust of snow cracked beneath the hooves of their horses, with a sound like breaking bones. When the wind set the leaves to rustling, it was like a chilly finger tracing a path up Jons spine. The Wall was at their backs, and only the gods knew what lay ahead.\r\nThe sun was drop below the trees when they reached their destination, a small clearing in the deep of the wood where nine weirwoods grew in a rough circle. Jon drew in a breath, and he saw Sam Tarly staring. Even in the wolfswood, you never found more than two or third of the white trees growing together; a grove of nine was unheard of. The forest floor was cover with fallen leaves, bloodred on top, black rot beneath. The roomy smooth trunks were bone pale, and nine faces stared inward. The desiccated sap that crusted in the eyes was red and hard as ruby. Bowen Marsh commanded them to leave their horses extraneous the circle. â€Å"This is a sacred place, we will not infect it.”\r\nWhen they entered the grove, Samwell Tarly turned slowly looking at each face in turn. No two were quite alike. â€Å"Theyre watching us,” he whispered. â€Å"The old gods.”\r\nâ€Å"Yes .” Jon knelt, and Sam knelt beside him.\r\nThey said the words together, as the last light washed-out in the west and grey day became black night.\r\nâ€Å"Hear my words, and bear witness to my vow,” they recited, their voices filling the dark grove. â€Å"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the snoot that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Nights Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.”\r\nThe woods fell silent. â€Å"You knelt as boys,” Bowen Marsh intoned solemnly. â€Å"Rise now as men of the Nights Watch.”\r\nJon held out a hand to pull Sam back to his feet. The rangers g athered round to base on balls smiles and congratulations, all but the gnarled old forester Dywen. â€Å"Best we be starting back, mlord,” he said to Bowen Marsh. â€Å"Darks falling, and theres something in the smell o the night that I mislike.”\r\nAnd suddenly Ghost was back, stalking softly between two weirwoods. White fur and red eyes, Jon realized, disquieted. Like the trees . . .\r\nThe wolf had something in his jaws. Something black. â€Å"Whats he got there?” asked Bowen Marsh, frowning.\r\nâ€Å"To me, Ghost.” Jon knelt. â€Å"Bring it here.”\r\nThe direwolf trotted to him. Jon heard Samwell Tarlys sharp intake of breath.\r\nâ€Å"Gods be good,” Dywen muttered. â€Å"Thats a hand.”\r\n'