The silver chain hung heavy around his neck as Castle Black finally came in sight.
War-torn Westeros had compromised the kingsroad or any chances of travel by land, forcing them, once again, and much to Samwell Tarly’s displeasure, to voyage by sea. Before his forged chains had time to cool, they had made haste from Oldtown before the weather proved a further impediment.
They sailed along the west coast of Westeros, past Pyke and Bear Island, with plans to eventually dock near Westwatch-by-the-Bridge. Little Sam was left behind with the maesters. The boy had learned how to walk and talk, but the climate that awaited them was too wild to risk his life. Besides, Oldtown was probably the safest place in Westeros, Sam had told a tearful Gilly.
He had sent ravens to Dolorous Edd the moment any facts relating White Walkers crossed his eye. The words flew across the continent. Stashes of obsidian in Skagos. Secret passageways from the Nightfort. Fire can only burn a wight, not a White Walker! It was only now that he would know for certain if his words reached the right hands.
Oldtown was the place where rumors became fact or fiction, but Sam still fretted over the fate of Jon. The last he heard, he had briefly won the battle at Winterfell, been heralded the King in the North, then shortly set off to Barrowton to fight against Queen Daenerys from Meereen. The Targaryen Maester Aemon spoke of, the Queen across the Water.
Samwell may have been maester of medicine and healing, but were it not for Gilly, the long journey surely would have taken his life. She had praised his stale bread and salt fish to make it sound edible. She had gently patted him on the back as he puked along the hull, dribbling into the rocking waves. She sung him to sleep when the sea threatened to swallow their ship. And as the Wall inched closer and nights grew longer and chillier, they gave each other heat, entwined as one under one black blanket.
The sorry carriage The Shadow Tower offered took them longer to reach, but they were finally here. The castles they crossed in the nights were so many Sam kept losing count, but he recognized Castle Black the moment he saw it. “We made it, Gilly,” he said, waking her up from her sleep.
Castle Black had a seven-hundred feet wall of ice on its northern side, but its fortifications on the rear were embarrassingly scarce. It was because of this, as he reached closer, did Sam catch a silhouette of the giant beast against the enormous white façade. Its cold black eyes glistened through the night. They saw.
For a second, Sam was back in Oldtown, engrossed in Archmaester Marwyn’s The Book of Lost Books. One of his descriptions spoke of what he saw, what he thought he saw. The legendary eyes of pale blue crystal, and breath ice cold.
I am too late. The battle is already lost.
But before Samwell thought to flee, the dragon screeched in the air, to his intense relief, fire.
The momentary shower of lights alerted sentries to Samwell’s presence, and soon, a horn tooted in the night. Samwell’s relief was instantly replaced with a gush of curiosity and fear. Beside him, Gilly voiced what he was thinking, “A dragon… in Westeros?”
Then the massive doors opened, and there was Jon Snow.
*
留言