Chapter 39: Interlude: Five

A/N: So, some people have said that they wanted who the POV is to be clearer, preferably by naming the chapter as such. However, any regular chapter will have Michael as the POV. Any interlude has a POV from anybody BUT Michael. I won't list out the name of the person, but I do try to make it clear in the writing, through thought process, accent, interactions with others, location, etc. It's somewhat of a writing challenge for me to communicate without labels, so I won't be titling the chapters with the name of the characters POV. Just check to see if the title of the chapter has 'Interlude' in it. Cheers

Ninth day, Tenth Moon, 247 AC

A shiver passed through me as I stood atop the walls staring out into the darkness. The summer snow reduced my vision to almost nothing in the dark, and the torches along the wall did little to help.

I did a little shuffle to shift my weight around and leaned on my spear a little more.

The cold wind blowing in from the north cut right through my clothing and armor making me regret trading places with Benjen. The wind swept in an hour ago, coming in fast and carrying snow throughout Deepwood.

Be a guard they said. Fight, and be like a warrior of old. Train, work hard, and you can become a legend.

Fuckers.

I guess they wouldn't get anyone if they said: Stand here and stare into the darkness for the rest of your life.

A particularly cold wind sent me closer to the protection of the tower, where there was less wind. Bloody piss. Where is Trent with those warm cloaks? He left half an hour ago. I swear, if he's taking a break in front of a fire while I freeze, I'll beat him bloody.

Finally, the door to the tower cracked open revealing a strip of light onto the floor. Trent scurried out, wrapped in his own cloak, and made his way to me.

"Finally, what took so long?" I growled.

I put the cloak on myself and reveled in the heat it provided. "It wasn't my fault, Bill!" He shouted over the wind. "Castellan is gonna be pissed in the morning! Rats got into the storage area 'n destroyed some o' the cloaks."

I glared at him. "Tell me I'm not covered in rat piss."

"You are not covered in rat piss," he replied unconvincingly. "On the bright side, I've got something for you!"

He handed me a cup. I took a whiff and smelled the familiar scent of vodka. I took a big swig of it, and felt the warmth radiate throughout my body.

"Ahh, that's the stuff." I said in pleasure.

"Too right. Grabbed some from Benjen's stash. If he ain't gonna be here t' suffer with us on this miserable night, he ought t' pay up."

I laughed and took another swig before passing it back to Trent. He finished it off and quickly put it back in the tower.

"What did you end up using 'yer extra coin for?" Trent asked.

"Got some good meat from the tavern 'n treated myself t' some o' that brandy stuff. Heard some o' captains sayin' how good it was. Bloody expensive, but so good!"

"That shit costs a lot o' coin, but I 'eard good things. I ended up getting some new bedding for the home. Wife's been going on 'n on about it," replied Trent.

"Bah, you give 'yer wife too much. She ought t' know her place."

"Happy wife, happy life."

I shrugged. "Rather a good drink. Drinks help me forget this shit job."

"Come on man, it ain't so bad. We're the first line o' defence!"

I glared at him. "That's shit they just say t' make you feel good."

"O' course it isn't!"

"We're here to make Master Glover look good. It'd be dumb to have a castle with no guards. But ain't no one attacking here."

"Oh yeah? What about them wildings? They came down here 20 years ago!"

"Great, so every twenty years we oughtta be worried?"

Trent rolled his eyes. "Nah, 'yer being dumb. There's the Ironborn and bandits too."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Ironborn? They don't come around here."

"Exactly! 'Cause of us! If we weren't guarding, they would attack."

"Their scared o' two men in the dark?"

"And all the ones in the castle! And in the town! Wait. Is this why you eat that garum shit?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean," he clarified. "You don't care about the Ironborn? If you buy that garum, that's coin that goes to them bastards. It'll buy 'em swords and armor, and then they'll come here! It's a damn fool thing to do!"

I rolled my eyes. "Piss off with that. Ironborn haven't been here in generations!"

"There are stories about them attacking small villages on the coast!"

I shrugged. "Not here though, and I ain't ever seen one of those villages or an Ironborn. I ain't worried."

"A damn fool, you –"

"Quit chatting like milk maids!" A loud voice bellowed, interrupting our conversation.

Trent and I snapped to attention. A large bearded man emerged from the stairs and into the light of the torch. "Castellan Hardwyn!" We both said.

"You are supposed to be on separate walls, 'ye curs! On with you! Before I dock your pay!"

"Yes, Castellan Hardwyn!" Trent said.

Trent quickly scurried off to the next wall, while the Castellan gave me the stink eye.

"What are you staring at, guardsmen? You should be looking outwards!"

"Sorry, Castellan Hardwyn!" I replied. I quickly turned around and stared into the darkness of the night.

It was a few minutes before I started to relax again.

Hello darkness, you old fucker.

A/N: So, in the last two chapters, the POV have been kind of sexist in how they treat women. I've tried to keep true to medieval perspectives with these characters, since they are not SI's. So, in case it isn't clear: Those aren't my views.