Chapter 279

The stretch of the King's Road running through the Gift, from the southern boundary of the new settlement to Castle Black, had long since been repaired, widened, and reinforced. The straight, sturdy road was regularly patrolled and maintained, ensuring that even the heavy snowfalls couldn’t bury or obscure it. The dark, frozen surface stood out starkly against the surrounding white plains, like a black line drawn by the gods themselves, leading inexorably to the Wall.

“The travel time between Castle Black and Crown's Rest has been successfully reduced from a full day to just over half a day,” Aegor explained, riding alongside Robb and Jon while braving the biting northern wind. “In the foreseeable future, we plan to continue improving the road south of Crown's Rest. Once the north-south artery through the Gift is complete, I also intend to repair the east-west roads that connect the nineteen forts along the Wall. This will form a T-shaped network of high-quality transport routes through the Gift. It will greatly improve the efficiency of supply transport and troop movements in emergencies.”

Arya, perched precariously on her horse and buffeted by the wind, cut in with a pout. “You’re only fixing the roads in the Gift? The road from Winterfell to the Gift is terrible! And they call it the King’s Road!”

Robb turned to glance at his sister, who was struggling to stay seated in the wind, and shook his head. “Children shouldn’t interrupt when adults are speaking. The wind’s too harsh out here—get back in the carriage.”

“No way! I’m not cold! Listening to the master ramble is way too fun!” Arya retorted with a grin.

Aegor nearly scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. Ramble? Was that how she described his grand, long-term infrastructure plans? He swallowed his discomfort and forced a smile. “If Lord Stark permits, I’d be happy to arrange for repairs to the northern stretch of the King’s Road. The section through the Wolfswood is already in better condition than the Gift’s roads were, so expanding and leveling it wouldn’t be too difficult. A better road would also mean that, should the Wall’s defenses fail, Northern reinforcements could arrive much faster.”

Robb’s lips tightened as he considered responding with, I haven’t even agreed to continue the Gift settlement plan yet. But after seeing Crown's Rest and its orderly administration of the wildlings, his impression of the project had softened considerably. Instead of voicing his doubts, he merely nodded, indicating that Aegor should continue his “rambling.”

“In addition,” Aegor continued, licking his lips to ward off the cold, “I’ve devised a new plan. To prevent the wildlings from threatening the North, the settlement has been deliberately confined to a specific area—a triangle enclosed by the lines between Castle Black, Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, Shadow Tower, and Crown's Rest. A large buffer of uninhabited land separates the North from the Gift. Once the T-shaped road network is complete, I intend to add direct roads connecting Crown's Rest to both Eastwatch and Shadow Tower. That way, 99% of the population will be encircled by this triangular system. On this foundation, I hope to establish a basic public transportation system.”

“Public... transportation?” Robb frowned, unfamiliar with the term.

“When the wildlings crossed the Wall, the Night’s Watch confiscated all usable livestock—horses, oxen, anything other than animals raised purely for meat. While this gave the Watch unprecedented resources, it left the settlers with no beasts of burden. They’ve had to rely on their own legs and handcarts to travel to Crown's Rest for grain and supplies. A single trip can take days,” Aegor explained. “Once the roads are finished, I propose running scheduled wagons between Crown's Rest, Eastwatch, and Shadow Tower, allowing settlers to hitch a ride. This would make better use of the livestock, help the settlers, and prevent the Watch from wasting resources on idle animals.”

“That sounds a bit too idealistic,” Robb remarked with a bemused smile. “How many wagons would you need for tens of thousands of people? You’d either kill the horses or break the wheels.”

“Of course, there would be limits on the number of passengers,” Aegor replied. “The solution is simple: charge a fee for riding. It would also help regulate currency and control the wealth of the settlers. The Gift is a self-contained society, densely populated within a small area. It’s an ideal environment for testing bold ideas. Even if something goes wrong, it’s easy to shut it down without causing long-term consequences.”

“Public transportation!” Arya exclaimed excitedly. “Could you set up a wagon between Crown's Rest and Winterfell? That way, I could ride over to the Gift whenever I get bored at home!”

“Do you have any idea how far it is from Winterfell to Crown's Rest?” Robb glared at Arya. “And let me remind you, dear sister—I’m your guardian now. I love you, which is precisely why I won’t indulge your whims. You are not to leave Winterfell without my permission or company. If you try again, I’ll lock you up like Mother used to!”

Arya pouted but wisely refrained from arguing over such a serious matter. “Fine, I get it,” she muttered under her breath.

...

Despite the miserable weather, the group had some cause for relief: there was no snowfall, and the wind, though strong, blew eastward rather than southward, allowing conversation to continue. As they pushed on along the wide, frozen road, they chatted to keep their spirits up and maintained a steady pace.

Around midday, they stopped in a sheltered spot for a quick lunch before resuming their journey. Shortly after, a black dot appeared on the gray horizon to the north. As the figure emerged from the distant mist, it resolved into the shape of a rider in black, approaching rapidly.

Jon squinted and was the first to recognize the rider. “Grenn!”

Robb, unfamiliar with most members of the Night’s Watch, asked curiously, “Who’s Grenn?”

“A ranger and a good friend of mine. But what’s he doing all the way out here?”

The approaching figure was mounted on a squat, scruffy horse that looked like it had once belonged to the wildlings. Despite its unimpressive appearance, the horse moved swiftly, and within minutes, Grenn reached the group. Spotting Jon, his face lit up with recognition, and then his expression turned to surprise and delight when he saw Aegor. “Jon! Aegor!”

“Long time no see, Grenn. This is Robb Stark, Warden of the North,” Aegor introduced Robb briefly before asking directly, “What’s happened at Castle Black? Why are you here?”

“Castle Black—” Grenn hesitated, glancing uneasily at Robb. The young lord’s reputation as Jon’s elder half-brother and the ruler of the North clearly gave him pause. After some deliberation, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a folded letter, handing it to Aegor. “Sam sent me to deliver this to you.”

Frowning, Aegor took the letter and unfolded it. The handwriting was unmistakably Sam’s—clear and precise. But the message itself left Aegor puzzled. Though he understood each word, the meaning escaped him. Something vital was missing.

Dread crept into Aegor’s chest. Apologizing to Robb, he pulled Grenn aside to a quieter spot and pressed him for details.

“Ser Denys Mallister and Cotter Pyke have both withdrawn from the election,” Grenn explained, his voice low and urgent. “They’ve thrown their support behind Yohn Royce. By the time I borrowed this horse and left Castle Black, Royce had already secured over five hundred votes.”

“What?!” Aegor’s expression darkened.

...

A second later, realization struck him as he pieced together Sam’s cryptic letter. Ten seconds after that, Aegor had already formulated a plan. Within half a minute, he returned to Robb and bowed apologetically. “Lord Stark, I’m afraid I must leave immediately. There’s an emergency at Castle Black that requires my attention.”

“Go, then,” Robb said with a nod. “We’re nearly at the Wall, and the road’s wide and clear. You won’t get lost.”

...

Riding hard along the repaired northern stretch of the King’s Road, Aegor silently thanked himself for prioritizing the renovations. The improvements had shaved hours off the journey between Crown's Rest and Castle Black—hours he desperately needed now.

...

Aegor pushed his horse to its limits, covering the last few miles in no time. Before long, he came into view of the gate sentries at Castle Black.

"Lord Aegor has returned!"

The gates swung open at once.

Even if he had schemed his way into his position, even if the logistics office held fewer brothers than before and his influence was nowhere near that of the other chief officers, no one denied that Aegor was part of the Night’s Watch leadership. Even his enemies acknowledged that fact.

No one stopped him as he rode smoothly into the familiar courtyard of Castle Black—unchanged even after two months away. He dismounted in one fluid motion, handed his reins to a subordinate, stripped off his wind-beaten coat, and tossed it onto the saddle. Every movement was quick and precise.

Standing in the middle of the yard, Aegor turned his head and shouted, "Call out to every tower—any brother not on duty, gather in the hall! I have something to say!"

With that, he pulled off his gloves, adjusted his collar, rolled up his sleeves, and strode toward the election hall.

Convincing people was second nature to him by now. But this time, words alone wouldn’t be enough.

This time, he wasn’t here to persuade. He was here to tear them apart, to call them out, to spit venom in their faces.

This time, he was going all in—do or die.