Two miles was not far, but they traveled very slowly through the woods. Dusk was deepening, and night came quickly to the North. The cloudless sky soon turned a deep bruise-purple, and stars and the moon began to appear. Although the light was less than a ten-thousandth of the sun's, the snow reflected the light, making visibility barely acceptable.
"It's just ahead," Will whispered to Aegon, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
"Be careful. If you encounter anything, just run," Aegon took a deep breath. Compared to Will's fear of the unknown in the darkness, knowing what he was about to face gave him a feeling of excitement – both his body and mind realized that with humanity's natural enemy soon to be faced, he had to start adjusting his state.
A wolf's howl came from deep within the woods.
Will stopped and dismounted beside an old ironwood tree covered in burls. Aegon did the same. The cold wind rustled through the woods. Aegon clearly felt the temperature drop. Whether it was a psychological illusion or the White Walkers bringing the cold, he couldn't be sure.
If the plot were to unfold as usual, the group should already be surrounded by the enemy at this moment.
"Something's not right here," Gared murmured.
"Is that so?" The young knight smiled at him disdainfully.
"Don't you feel it?" Gared demanded. "Listen carefully to the sounds in the darkness."
"The wind, the rustling leaves, and a wolf's howl. Gared, which one has scared you witless?" Royce dismounted gracefully, tied his horse to a low-hanging branch far from the other three, and drew his longsword. "If you're afraid, stay here and watch the horses for us. Aegon and Will, come with me to see those dead men."
Gared frowned, enduring the insult, and took out his tool bag. "I'll build a fire."
"Old man, there's a limit to foolishness. If there are enemies in these woods, should we build a fire to attract them?"
"Some things fear fire," Gared said, holding his flint. "Like bears, Direwolves, and... and quite a few other things."
"I said no, and that means no."
...
Aegon frowned, observing the conversation between the two. He couldn't help but wonder if the White Walkers might not have found them and simply left with their newly acquired followers if they had spoken more quietly.
But he had neither the right nor the means to make these guys shut up. He opened his mouth to speak but ultimately curbed the impulse, only tightening his grip on the dagger in his hand and quietly hiding it inside his sleeve.
Gared glared at the young knight for a moment, finally lowering his head and accepting the arrangement. Royce nodded with satisfaction, looking at Will and Aegon. "Let's go."
Will took small steps forward, looking left and right, leading Aegon through the dense bushes and up the gentle slope. Both of them moved carefully and softly, trying their best not to make any sound... but the knight walking last had no intention of being equally "stealthy". He strode behind them with his head held high, his body brushing against leaves, the metal rings of his mail clanking, and forked branches occasionally snagging his longsword or catching on his luxurious cloak, causing him to utter curses.
Every little sound Royce made caused Aegon's heart to clench as he walked ahead. *This damn idiot,* Aegon cursed inwardly. He wouldn't let them speak under any circumstances, but now, when they should be quiet, he kept making noise. It was hopeless. He had thought about turning back, pointing his sword at the young man, and ordering him to be quiet, but he knew that would not only create more noise but, given his inferior skill, could even lead the situation completely out of control.
He could only take it one step at a time.
He truly was "taking it one step at a time." The short hundred-meter stretch felt like a year to Aegon. Finally, he followed Will up the small, snow-covered rise.
Remaining highly tense, Aegon clearly heard Will gasp beside him.
Below the rise before them, bright moonlight fell upon the clearing, illuminating the remains of the Wildlings' camp. The embers of the campfire still emitted wisps of white smoke, rocks were covered in white snow, and the small stream was half-frozen. There was nothing unusual... except for the Wildlings Will had mentioned, nowhere to be seen.
"Gods be good!" Behind him, Ser Waymar Royce swung his sword, cutting away a branch blocking his face, and reached the top of the rise. He stood beside the two Night's Watch recruits, sword in hand, his cloak snapping in the wind. The starlight and moonlight clearly outlined his noble figure.
"Damn it, get down!" Will pulled Aegon, making him crouch. "Something strange is happening."
Royce didn't move. He looked down at the empty clearing and smiled. "Will, it seems those dead men you spoke of have moved on."
Will fell silent, his chest rising and falling, trembling as he observed the empty camp. Aegon also felt the cold converging from all directions, seeping into the gaps in his clothes. He tightened his grip on his steel sword with his right hand, while his left hand clenched the Obsidian Dagger hidden in his sleeve. He strained his eyes, trying to find any trace of the White Walkers... In the TV series, the White Walkers inexplicably appeared behind that young Royce. As for the description of their appearance in the original novel, he had completely forgotten it. This time, where would these ghost things appear from?
"Will, get up," Ser Waymar commanded. "There's no one here. What sort of behavior is this, hiding and sneaking around!"
Filled with surprise and doubt, Will glanced nervously at Aegon and reluctantly stood up.
"I don't want my first patrol to be a failure. We must find these fellows." Royce looked around. "Climb up a tree and take a look. Be quick, and watch for any firelight nearby."
The final moment was approaching. Aegon controlled his breathing and quietly whispered a warning into Will's ear: "Beware of the dead."
"What?"
"What are you two chatting about? Hurry up!"
Will became even more nervous from Aegon's inexplicable remark. He glanced at him and timidly turned to carry out his officer's command. The wind suddenly grew stronger. The poacher walked to a tall, straight blue-gray sentinel tree, drew his dagger, held it in his teeth, and began to climb. As the trunk shook and a small amount of snow rustled down, he quickly disappeared among the branches and leaves, leaving only Waymar and Aegon standing in the ruins of the empty camp.
Aegon's nerves were stretched to the limit. He finally understood why people used the phrase "ears pricked" to describe listening intently. If he could control the muscles around his ears, he would surely make the organ stand up to the extreme.
What made him feel both fortunate and fearful was that he heard an abnormal sound almost instantly.
Something was moving among the nearby trees, making faint sounds as it stepped on the snow and fallen branches. Filtered by the thin layer of loose snow on the ground, only a faint trace came through. Aegon couldn't even tell if it was his imagination.
He looked around, raising his sword into a defensive posture.
"What's wrong with you today?" Ser Royce frowned. "I have some impression of you. You're a bit different from that bunch of robbers and rapists, but..."
"Don't talk!" The temperature began to drop sharply. The extreme sense of crisis made Aegon disregard the difference in their statuses. He interrupted Waymar without hesitation. "Listen!"
"Listen to what... it's just..." Waymar raised his eyebrows, about to mock as usual, but his expression changed. "Who's there?" After a good deal of disbelief, he finally sensed that something was wrong. "Will, do you see anything?"
The poacher in the tree did not reply, perhaps due to the cold, fear, or because he had a dagger in his mouth.
The Wildlings' campsite was in a hollow within the woods, surrounded by slopes on three sides. This blocked the wind but also affected visibility. Although the two men under the tree sensed the invasion of cold and the faint sounds coming from nearby, they could see nothing in the dim moonlight... Waymar also raised the sword in his hand. Unlike the standard steel swords of the Night's Watch, this weapon was brought from his home. Its quality and design were better than Aegon's, and it gleamed in the moonlight.
Leaves rustled, the cold stream babbled, and the hoot of a snow owl came from afar. The fear brought by the strange sounds did not torment them for long – because the master who created them soon walked out. A White Walker appeared from behind a rise, circled a tree, and came before them.
Aegon, maintaining high vigilance, spotted it instantly – the first white figure entered Aegon's sight. It was very tall, gaunt and resolute like bone, its skin pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved, sometimes white as new snow, sometimes black as shadow, dotted everywhere with the deep, mysterious gray-green of the forest. With every step it took, the patterns on it constantly shifted like ripples of moonlight on water.
Waymar Royce quickly followed Aegon's gaze and also saw the figure that had suddenly emerged from the darkness. He gasped, quickly raising his sword and pointing it at the newcomer. "Who are you, stop!"
It was a warning, but his tone no longer held the arrogance and casualness he used when giving orders to Aegon and the other two recruits. The young noble flipped the long mink coat on his back to free up space for movement, holding his sword with both hands. Aegon's sharp eyes noticed that his hands were trembling.
The wind had stopped, the cold bone-chilling. Aegon's own hands were also trembling – not purely from fear, but also from the fighting spirit filling his body. The massive secretion of adrenaline made him feel like his blood was boiling. The White Walker walked quietly and slowly towards the two Night's Watchmen, holding a translucent crystal sword, like a piece of extremely thin shattered ice. Aegon knew that while valyrian steel and obsidian could kill White Walkers, only the former could clash head-on with their weapons. And that kind of magic metal, long out of production, he truly had no ability to obtain even a small amount, let alone a dagger.
An obsidian dagger was essentially a piece of glass. It was too fragile. He likely only had one chance to strike – succeed, or die. Two against one, as long as this Waymar guy could hold off this fellow for a moment, he could...
"Since you won't stop," Waymar bravely stepped forward. He raised his sword overhead, a hint of provocation returning to his somewhat recovered calm tone. "Let's have a contest!"
Aegon took a deep breath, gripping his sword in one hand and the dagger in the other, closely following the steps of the Ranger team leader. But the moment he took his first step, his fiercely beating heart suddenly stopped in surprise. The unexpected turn of events caught him off guard.
—