Chapter 276

Robb had long noticed—Aegor had an uncanny ability to effortlessly utter seemingly profound and logical statements. Instead of analyzing the intricacies of his logic, Robb found himself more interested in the details of the "civilizing" aspect Aegor mentioned. His instincts as the newly appointed Warden of the North told him this was an important governance tool, one worth mastering.

"Ah, that’s a bit unfortunate. Crown's Rest was only completed recently, and while its basic ‘sustenance’ functions have been operational for a while, everything else is still in the early conceptual stage and hasn’t been implemented yet," Aegor replied with a chuckle. For once, this wasn’t a lie. "If you’re truly interested in how the ‘civilizing’ process works, we’ll have plenty of time to discuss it during the Northern tour. But for now, we’ve been on the road for days. Everyone’s exhausted—let’s enter the town, enjoy its hospitality, and revisit this conversation after we’re well-fed, well-rested, and properly refreshed."

"Agreed," Robb said.

As the group passed through Crown's Rest’s gates, the stark contrast between the bustling exterior and the tranquil interior became immediately apparent. Within the walls, tall, square buildings constructed of wood and stone lined the streets. Unlike the chaotic marketplace outside, the streets here were almost devoid of people save for the stationed guards. Aegor’s earlier explanation of the town’s strict admission policy seemed accurate, and the silence helped Robb and his Winterfell companions relax.

At least within these walls, they wouldn’t have to worry about stray stones flying out of nowhere.

...

Crown's Rest's design was markedly different from a traditional castle. There was no distinct inner or outer circle, nor was there a central keep. Instead, the buildings were uniform in design, falling into two categories: warehouses and residential houses. Though Aegor was the town’s de facto ruler and its designer, he wasn’t its official lord. To avoid gossip and maximize space, he’d ordered the construction of a practical grid-like layout, deliberately omitting a "main keep," "great hall," or any structure exclusive to ruling families.

Yarm, the town’s mayor, had executed Aegor’s instructions faithfully. The result was a meticulously planned settlement with an orderly grid of streets. To Aegor, the clean, modern aesthetic was pleasing, but to the Starks, accustomed to Winterfell’s labyrinthine design, the uniformity was disorienting. Simple as the layout was, they suspected they might genuinely get lost without a guide.

After walking about a hundred meters and rounding a corner, they arrived at an area that, while not the geometric center of Crown's Rest, was undoubtedly its core. Here, Aegor was greeted by two individuals: Humphrey Hill, whom he’d met in prison and now served as Crown's Rest’s logistics officer, and—unexpectedly—Jon Snow.

What’s he doing here? Aegor frowned slightly and glanced at Yarm.

He had brought Robb Stark to the Gift to let the Warden of the North see things with his own eyes. Playing the "family card" hadn’t been part of the plan. The resettlement of the Free Folk in the Gift was a matter of Northern security, far too important to hinge on personal bonds. Even if Robb valued brotherly advice, sending Jon, who wasn’t particularly articulate, as a spokesman could backfire.

Yarm subtly shook his head, indicating that Jon’s presence wasn’t his doing.

"Jon—Jon!" Arya, unbothered by the awkward atmosphere, broke into a run and jumped into her favorite bastard brother’s arms.

Robb also embraced Jon warmly. After exchanging greetings, he asked, "Jon, shouldn’t you be at Castle Black? What brings you here?"

"Castle Black is in chaos with the election of the new Lord Commander. With no one keeping order, I came to Crown's Rest to see if there’s anything I could help with," Jon replied.

Robb chuckled. "You’re always so eager to help... but don’t forget to focus on your duties."

"You’re right, Lord Stark," Jon replied with a wry smile.

The brothers exchanged some lighthearted banter while Aegor quickly regained his composure. Jon’s presence could only mean there was something urgent to discuss. Aegor decided to cut the conversation short before they wandered into sensitive territory.

"It’s cold out here. Let’s head inside, unload our things, and relax. There’ll be plenty of time to catch up later," Aegor said.

...

The evening’s dinner was bountiful but not extravagant. While the accommodations and bathhouses didn’t compare to the luxury of Winterfell, every effort had been made to ensure the guests’ comfort. After the reception concluded, the Winterfell party was escorted to their lodgings, and Aegor returned to his office to hear the latest reports from Humphrey and Yarm.

...

The reports were concise but grim: Crown's Rest's reserves were nearly depleted.

When the Free Folk had marched south, they’d brought everything they could carry, but even those supplies were finite. Mance Rayder had planned to resupply by looting the North and beyond after breaching the Wall. But Aegor’s strategic intervention—reinforcements from the South and a robust defense of the Wall—had forced the Free Folk to surrender before they could cross. Now resettled in the Gift, they had no access to the vast resources of the Haunted Forest. The supplies they’d brought were rapidly dwindling, and to make matters worse, half of the grain was being held at Castle Black under the purview of the First Steward, who refused to release it for the Free Folk.

With less than half the Gift’s grain reserves available, feeding nearly 80% of the population—the new settlers and logistics staff—was an impossible task. Humphrey and Yarm had followed Aegor’s instructions to distribute rations as usual, but they were running out of time.

"We’ve tried everything to delay the inevitable," Yarm explained, his face lined with worry. "We reduced work intensity to slow consumption, raised grain prices incrementally while diversifying other goods to divert spending, encouraged hunting and gathering in the wilderness, and even secretly negotiated with mountain clans to obtain supplies from Castle Black. But the Wall’s stores are tightly controlled. All we’ve managed to do is push back the day when our grain runs out."

"Frankly, your month-long absence with two thousand men actually helped a lot," Humphrey added with a shrug. "If those extra mouths had stayed, our granaries might already be empty."

"Thank you for your efforts," Aegor said, acknowledging their hard work. He understood the gravity of the situation—grain shortages were grain shortages, and even if he’d stayed, there was little more he could have done. "The route between the Gift and the North is now open, and the first shipment of aid is imminent. Focus on maintaining order and prepare to receive the supplies. We just need to hold on a little longer."

The two administrators breathed sighs of relief, their tense expressions easing. "As expected of you, my lord! Your work always puts us at ease."

"Could you share details of your journey south?" Humphrey asked eagerly.

Aegor recounted his experiences, emphasizing the challenges Robb Stark had posed and his preliminary solutions. Their discussion stretched on for over an hour before Jon Snow knocked on the door.

Jon’s presence indicated more pressing matters than Crown's Rest's internal affairs. Aegor dismissed the administrators, instructing them to check on the Winterfell guests before retiring for the night. Once alone, he turned to Jon.

"Jon, long time no see," Aegor greeted him with a smile. "Have you been chatting with Robb or fending off Arya?"

"Both," Jon replied, taking a seat. "Father’s death hit Arya hard. She’s pretending to have moved on, but she’s still consumed by guilt. I tried to comfort her a bit, so I’m late."

"I see." Aegor had little interest in discussing Arya’s emotions. As soon as the door closed, he shifted gears. "What’s going on at Castle Black?"

Jon wasted no time. "Your plan to stall the election of the next Lord Commander has been successful. Ser Denys Mallister’s votes have been holding steady at around four hundred, while Cotter Pyke trails with just over three hundred. After about two weeks of deadlock, Othell Yarwyck—the Chief Builder—has withdrawn his candidacy."

...

Aegor exhaled in relief. His departure from Castle Black had been a calculated gamble to let his rivals exhaust themselves fighting each other, buying him time to consolidate his position. If Denys and Cotter had united to elect a Lord Commander during his absence, Aegor would have returned to find the Gift under new leadership, leaving him no choice but to instigate a wildling uprising.

Fortunately, the worst-case scenario hadn’t come to pass. Othell’s withdrawal was unsurprising—he lacked the qualifications and backing of the commanders at Shadow Tower and Eastwatch. His exit freed up around two hundred votes, which he hoped would decide the election.

"And what’s changed since he withdrew?" Aegor asked.

"Denys Mallister’s votes rose to four hundred and fifty, while Cotter Pyke’s increased to nearly four hundred. The gap has actually narrowed," Jon reported.

Aegor quickly calculated the numbers and noticed something odd. "That’s barely over eight hundred votes. Even with sixty of our arranged votes accounted for, there are still nearly two hundred unaccounted for. Where did they go?"

"Ser Warner Buckwell received over a hundred votes," Jon explained. "While you were away, Sam and I worked to rally support at Castle Black. We’ve been explaining the benefits of the Gift resettlement and your efforts in the North, and the Free Folk’s good behavior has won over more brothers. After Othell’s withdrawal, many of his supporters shifted their votes to reformist candidates—your allies."

Aegor nodded in satisfaction. Jon and Sam’s efforts had paid off, winning the reformists a significant boost. However, he quickly realized this wasn’t the main reason Jon had come.

"But the opposition has caught on, haven’t they?" Aegor asked.

Jon confirmed his suspicion. "Yes. The news of your victories in the North—retaking Deepwood Motte, persuading Moat Cailin’s garrison to surrender, and now Robb Stark’s visit—has reached Castle Black. Denys Mallister and Cotter Pyke are meeting frequently, likely planning how to counter you when you return."

"How many votes can we reliably count on?"

"Between the votes from the Westerlands and the brothers swayed by Sam and me, we have around two hundred and sixty. That’s less than a third of the total. The conservatives still control two-thirds of the vote," Jon admitted.

Aegor grimaced. If Mallister and Pyke joined forces, they could crush his chances of becoming Lord Commander. Even if they didn’t, the conservatives might still find a way to block him.

"Sam believes the chances of them uniting are slim," Jon said, "but there’s always the possibility of a compromise within their faction. I thought it best to warn you and give you time to prepare for any outcome.