Lynn did not return to his own quarters.
Instead, he cut straight through the courtyard—now rife with anxiety over the discovery of the bodies—and headed for the makeshift barracks housing his one hundred Northern guards.
Inside, Torren and several squad leaders were distributing the evening rations: hard black bread and watery broth.
The soldiers were gathered around the braziers, speaking in hushed tones about the day's events. Their faces wore looks of wary vigilance toward the unknown.
"My Lord!"
Seeing Lynn enter, the men rose to their feet in unison.
"Sit," Lynn waved a hand, walking directly to the center of the room.
"Brothers."
Lynn's gaze swept over every face. These were men weathered by the wild, men who looked upon him with absolute trust.
"You all saw what happened today."
Lynn didn't mince words.
"Those two corpses... I guarantee you, there is something wrong with them."
The expressions on the soldiers' faces instantly hardened.
A dead silence fell over the barracks, broken only by the crackle of firewood in the braziers.
The men looked at one another. There was confusion in their eyes, but more than that, there was a deep-seated awe and fear of the ancient legends—a reverence that ran in their Northern blood.
They were men of the North. They believed in the Old Gods. They believed in magic.
"We have work to do tonight."
Lynn walked over to a crude map of Castle Black.
"Lord Commander Mormont has placed one body in his own solar."
"The other is in Maester Aemon's chambers."
Lynn tapped two spots on the map.
"Torren."
"Here, my Lord!"
"Take thirty men. Stand guard outside Maester Aemon's door."
Lynn's tone brooked no argument.
"Remember, your mission is to protect the Maester. He is old and blind; he must not come to any harm."
"Yes, my Lord!" Torren nodded heavily.
"Harvey," Lynn turned to another squad leader.
"Here!"
"Take thirty men. Guard the Lord Commander's solar."
"Yes, sir!"
"The rest of you will come with me."
Lynn's gaze grew sharp as steel.
"Listen closely to what I say next. Your lives depend on it."
Everyone held their breath.
"If—and I say if—you see those bodies move..."
Lynn spoke every word with deliberate weight.
"Do not try to pierce their hearts with your swords. Do not try to hack off their heads. It won't work."
"Then... what should we do?" a young guard couldn't help but ask.
"Fire."
Lynn spat the word out.
"Burn them."
"Only fire can kill them for good."
"I don't care if you use torches, coals from the hearth, or if you light their clothes directly."
"Just make sure they burn before they get close to you!"
"Is that clear?"
"Clear!" A unified, low roar filled the barracks.
"Good." Lynn nodded.
"Now, everyone, check your steel. Get the oil and torches ready."
The soldiers sprang into action.
They wiped down their longswords, hauled out jars of oil, and fashioned makeshift torches from rags.
An atmosphere of tense, grim determination quickly filled the room.
Lynn walked to a corner and picked up the Valyrian steel dagger Ned had given him.
The handle was made of dragonbone, smooth and strangely warm to the touch against the cold air.
He knew that ordinary fire might deal with wights, but it was slow.
But Valyrian steel...
The legendary metal, forged in dragonflame.
It possessed a natural dominion over these creatures of darkness.
He carefully strapped the dagger to the inside of his calf—the most accessible, yet concealed, position.
With everything arranged, Lynn stepped out of the barracks.
Night had completely swallowed Castle Black.
The wind howled along the Wall, sounding like the wailing of ghosts.
Most of the castle had gone dark, with only a few windows still glowing with dim, yellow candlelight.
Lynn's figure melted into the darkness like a shadow.
He didn't go directly to the Lord Commander's Tower. First, he circled near Maester Aemon's rookery.
Torren and his men were already in position.
They stood like statues in the shadows of the corridor, weapons and torches at the ready.
Lynn gave Torren a hand signal, then turned and left.
He needed to confirm the situation on the other side.
The Lord Commander's Tower was the tallest and strongest structure in Castle Black. Mormont's solar was on the top floor.
The Old Bear had kept the dead man close not just because he doubted Lynn's judgment, but because he suspected foul play regarding the deaths of Flowers and Othor. He was keeping the body as bait, hoping to draw out a murderer.
Lynn didn't take the main entrance.
He circled to the back of the tower and, agile as an ape, silently scaled the wall to a second-story windowsill.
From there, he had a clear view of the only staircase leading to the top floor.
Harvey and his men were already ambushed in the shadows of the stairwell.
Everything was going according to plan.
Lynn leaned against the cold stone wall, steadying his breathing.
He looked up at the lit window on the top floor.
He knew Lord Commander Mormont was inside.
Perhaps he was drinking, or perhaps reading.
But the Old Bear surely never imagined that he was sharing the room with a monster that was about to bring death and terror.
Lynn's hand rested gently on the hilt of the dagger at his calf.
Now, all he had to do was wait.