Prologue

Will is consumed by a dread that grips his very soul, as if an ominous forewarning has gripped his senses, as though they understand the gravity of their situation more acutely than his mind can grasp.

Merely half a year prior, they were enjoying the riches acquired from a merchant caravan near Pinkmaiden, a stroke of fortune that had become a familiar occurrence.

Their notoriety had increasingly restricted their movements within the Riverlands, necessitating a shift in seeking their fortunes elsewhere. Hence, Edgar led them westward along the River Road, a move met with skepticism by many, yet he argued it was strategic, especially with the addition of new, more seasoned members to their group.

"Hold," Edgar commands, his voice serene, masking the desperation driving them to this point.

For nine days, what remains of Will's company have been on the run, heading north, then northeast, and north again, distancing themselves from the westerlands, evading the Lannisters' pursuit. Each day brought more hardship than the last, with today marked by a chilling northern wind that seemed to animate the trees. Throughout the day, Will felt each step forward brought him nearer to his demise, a sentiment Edgar shared. Will's deepest wish was to collapse and seek solace in rest, yet such desires were not to be voiced, especially not in the face of their current proximity to High Heart.

Will's history with Edgar spans most of their lives, through childhood and manhood, Edgar always being the one to navigate them through peril. Their long association allowed Will to notice the strain on Edgar's face, the desperation in his eyes barely concealed by his cloak.

Although seasoned, Will finds himself near Harrenfell for the first time, haunted by tales of old, his fear replacing what once was admiration and aspiration for the knightly order symbolized by the green cloak and shining armor. He now believes that such dreams were mere childhood fantasies, unattainable for someone of his standing.

"What are we waiting for?" Gared challenges. "They're merely elderly, women, and children. We'll make quick work of them before any help arrives." Edgar seems deaf to Gared's words, lost in the deepening dusk.

Will, familiar with Edgar's contemplative silences, knows better than to disturb him. "Tell me what you saw, Will. Every detail. Leave nothing out."

Will's natural talent for stealth and keen observation made him an exceptional hunter and scout for the group. His ability to navigate the forest without a sound was unparalleled, quickly earning him recognition among their company.

"The encampment is about two miles ahead, just over that ridge near a stream," Will reported. "I approached as closely as possible. There are six, one old man and three women; two children were visible. They've constructed a shelter against a rock face, which is partly concealed, though it remains discernible. A fire was lit, but there appeared to be no movement, as if they were all resting. I saw no adult males."

Gared interpreted their situation with grim certainty, "They're likely seeking refuge with the Maltanis. It's a sensible choice given their plight, and frankly, it's the best option for anyone in their shoes, which works for us, who haven't yet trespassed on Maltanis territory. If we don't act, starvation will claim us before the Lannisters ever do."

Edgar responded to Gared's sudden eloquence with a hint of surprise, "Quite the speaker today, Gared. I hadn't pegged you for such."

"I'm starved, Edgar," Gared confessed, removing his hood to lock eyes with Edgar, signaling the seriousness of his statement. "And I'm not alone in this."

Edgar lightly teased, "You could stand to lose a bit of weight anyway, Gared."

Gared's response was a fierce glare, his facial scars reddening with anger. "Let's see how nimble you are tomorrow when you're too weak to even stand," he retorted, pulling his hood back on and sulking in silence.

Edgar conceded with a nod, "Calm down, Gared. We're going to strike." He then turned to Will with a smirk of confidence, "Lead the way, Will."

With the decision made and their dire circumstances dictating their actions, there was no turning back.

Will led the way with caution, navigating the treacherous forest floor littered with stones, roots, and hidden pitfalls. Edgar followed, his impatience more evident than usual, with Gared trailing behind.

As dusk deepened into night, the sky shifted from a bruised purple to black, with stars emerging and a crescent moon providing a sliver of light, for which Will was thankful.

The attack unfolded rapidly, just as Gared had anticipated. The sudden screams accompanied the fall of an elderly man's lifeless body. By then, escape was futile; they were already ensnared.

"Gared, there is no time for that!" Edgar yelled at Gared, who was overpowering a struggling woman.

"It'll be over quickly," Gared muttered, consumed by desire, as the woman's cries and pleas for help continued unabated.

Surveying the scene, Will noted the evident wish among the woman's companions to intervene, visible in their furious glances. However, they remained immobilized, clutching the children close in an effort to protect and soothe them amidst the chaos.

"Will, gather anything valuable. And hurry," Edgar commanded, menacingly brandishing his axe at the group.

Will turned to comply silently, recognizing the futility of protest.

As he sifted through the scattered belongings, a sudden chill suggested a change in the atmosphere.

"Edgar," Will hissed with a sense of urgency, "something's not right."

Edgar remained unphased, scanning the clearing and scoffing, "You're seeing things, Will."

But Will was momentarily speechless, his attempt to articulate his apprehension thwarted by an inexplicable dread.

Edgar, however, soon called out, "Who's there?" his voice betraying a hint of doubt.

The forest's response was natural—the rustle of foliage, the babble of the nearby stream, the distant call of an owl.

Will caught a glimpse of motion out of the corner of his eye. Figures weaving between the trees, a glimpse of steel in the darkness, then nothing. The branches swayed, whispering secrets to one another. Will's attempt to voice a warning was stifled, his concerns seemingly unfounded, possibly the illusions of moonlight or a passing animal.

Suddenly, a figure materialized from the forest's shadow directly before Edgar. A man of modest stature with dark brown hair and piercing grey eyes, so deep they verged on black. His lithe agility hinted at his slender frame, his armor blending seamlessly with the environment—now with the muted green of the forest, and then with the dark of the shadows, shifting like moonlight on water with each movement.

Will observed a flicker of motion to the side, catching his attention. Edgar let out a sharp exhale, resembling a whistle, cautioning, "Don't move any further," as he approached one of the women, pressing his ax against her throat. His voice broke, betraying his self-assurance.

In defiance of Edgar's expectations, the young man draped his long green sable cloak off his shoulders, freeing his arms for combat, and at that moment, the air stood still.

He approached quietly, wielding a long sword of dark gray, bathed in moonlight. The blade emitted a soft green luminescence, its edges alive with a pulsating light, and Will instinctively understood its unmatched sharpness.

With a dwindling courage, Edgar threatened, "I'll kill her," pressing the ax closer, causing the woman to bleed and cry out in terror. Edgar's hands, however, shook, either from fear or fatigue.

In the ensuing silence, Will's search for Gared was met with the shocking sight of Gared's motionless body, and the person responsible for it shielding the woman with his cloak.

Then, almost imperceptibly, additional figures emerged from the shadows—three, four, eight, too many to count, overwhelming them with their numbers.

Confronted by their evident disadvantage, Edgar surrendered his weapon and raised his hands, with Will mirroring the gesture and kneeling.

The quiet was pierced as the knights began to interrogate them, the exchange bathed in moonlight, though Will struggled to recall the specifics. The youngest knight commanded, and they were hauled to the center of the camp, forced to bow their heads while keeping their hands raised. A prominent knight, wielding a sword named Dawn, its blade as pale as milk glass and unmatched in strength and sharpness, stood before them.

The young man, now gloveless and his sword sheathed, moved closer. Will could now see the distinct armor, signifying a status among a select few. Despite his fear, Will marveled at the young man's authority over these knights, whom he recognized to be part of the legendary Order.

With a cold stare, the young man declared, "By the authority of Robert Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, and by decree of Jonaleon of House Maltanis, Lord of Dragonstone, you are sentenced to lifelong service at the Wall."