Unlike the journey South from The Wall more than a month ago, Aegon's return to The Wall inevitably brought the unpleasant experience of progressively lower temperatures, narrower roads, and sparser populations. Three days after leaving Winterfell, farmlands and villages gradually disappeared. They approached the uninhabited zone between The Wall and the Warden of the North's territory, where the Wolfswood trees grew ever darker and denser, and the King's Road gradually turned into a forest path...
The mountains were to the west, the road to the northeast. The weather became colder than before, and the temperature at night had long dropped below freezing. Whenever the north wind blew, it cut like a knife through their tightly wrapped sheepskin coats. Not only that, but the forest also echoed with the distant, intermittent howling of wolves. The small white Direwolf Jon brought with him would perk its ears up every time it heard them, but it never responded.
A week into their journey, just before entering the New Gift at the edge of the Wolfswood, they met up with Yoren, a Night's Watch Crow, who was waiting at a wooden manor. A Crow, in fact, refers to a Night's Watch steward specifically responsible for recruiting. Because he frequently traveled across Westeros, bringing various scoundrels and desperate people back to The Wall to become what the Wildlings called "Crows," he earned this nickname.
This Yoren was not the honest-looking man from the original show. His fierce expression and thick beard that almost covered his features could scare a child at first glance. One look was enough to tell he was a tough man not to be messed with. He brought two raggedly dressed farm boys from the Fingers.
"Rapists." Even the fiercest Crow was just a steward. Yoren nodded to the two Rangers and concisely introduced the identities and backgrounds of the two new recruits. Westeros had a very simple and brutal way of punishing commoners for crimes, especially in the North. Whatever was used to commit the crime would be cut off. Theft meant losing a hand, speaking ill of others meant losing a tongue, and if you got dizzy and chose the wrong side, you'd lose your head. Two rapists... Evidently, life on The Wall, no matter how hard, was still much better than becoming a eunuch.
After the two groups merged, they became nine people and one wolf. Jon Snow kept observing Yoren and his two gloomy companions along the way, his expression becoming strange, and he became silently and unconsciously lost in thought. Aegon saw the boy's change and, of course, understood the reason: the bastard had only ever met Uncle Benjen and two Night's Watchmen like himself, and clearly mistakenly believed that the black-clad legion was full of similar respectable individuals. He certainly didn't know that Aegon got the chance to go to Winterfell precisely because he had a proper appearance, was knowledgeable and well-mannered, clear-headed, and articulate.
Clearly, Yoren and the two rapist recruits were a startling wake-up call for him. Aegon felt sorry for him; the path he had chosen, or perhaps was forced to choose due to his identity, was a difficult one...
***
Whether setting up or breaking camp, Tyrion was of no help. He was too small, and his limping gait only got in the way. So, whenever they stopped to settle, the Dwarf would wrap himself tightly in his leather coat, clutch his wineskin, and read alone while others pitched tents, tended to the horses, and built fires for warmth.
That evening, after everyone finished setting up camp, Aegon habitually found Tyrion sitting by the edge of the campsite.
"What are you reading?"
"A book about dragons. I got it from the Winterfell library with Lord Eddard Stark's permission. I need to finish it quickly and return it." Tyrion put the book down on his knees, opening it for Aegon to see the contents. "What I read today was about the Battle of the Field of Fire."
"What's that?"
"One of Aegon's battles during the conquest of the Seven Kingdoms. In that battle, King Mern Gardener of the Riverlands and King Loren Lannister of the Westerlands allied their forces to resist the Targaryen conquest. Their combined army numbered six hundred lords, five thousand knights, and over fifty thousand sellswords and foot soldiers. The Targaryen forces were only about one-fifth of their opponents, mostly recruited from previously defeated enemy armies, with questionable loyalty." The Dwarf knew Aegon had only recently learned the script of Westeros and still had difficulty reading, so he explained the book's content to him. "The two armies met in the flat, fertile plains along the Riverlands. The allied forces charged, and the Targaryen army immediately scattered and fled. Within just a few minutes, the text writes—'Years of conquest seemed about to come to a halt... but that was only for the few minutes before Aegon Targaryen and his two sisters entered the battle.'"
Aegon had already guessed what happened next: "Then the dragons joined the battle, and the tide instantly turned. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knows that."
"Exactly, but this was the only time in history that Vhagar, Meraxes, and Balerion, three giant dragons, attacked simultaneously. More soldiers were burned to death by Dragonflame that day than in all other battles of the entire conquest war combined. After the two famous battles, the 'Field of Fire' and the 'Burning of Harrenhal,' the other kings gradually realized that neither defending their castles nor attacking directly would lead to victory. Thus, the Stark of the North and the Arryn of the Vale surrendered without a fight, and the Seven Kingdoms quickly unified into Six Kingdoms."
"Having dragons is a complete cheat, the battle was only good to look at, it has no military reference value."
"Of course, I'm just reading for fun. Why would I need military reference value?" The Dwarf looked at Aegon strangely, then quickly understood, remembering the other man was a Night's Watch soldier. "The Gardener family was wiped out in this battle, and the Tyrell family became the rulers of Highgarden... Thank the gods, my ancestors escaped the dragon's mouth in this battle and surrendered decisively, which is why I can be here today, reliving this battle across time and space."
Aegon wasn't familiar with many of the terms in this world. Only now did he realize that among Aegon's opponents in the Battle of the Field of Fire were the Lannister lords of the Westerlands... No wonder Tyrion paid special attention to this battle.
"Why are you two reading again?" Jon Snow walked over, still looking glum. The First Ranger was his elder, and the Night's Watch Crow and the other new recruits were completely different from what he had imagined. The boy, feeling out of place among those around him, could only talk a little with Aegon and the Dwarf at this moment.
"Is there a problem with reading?" Aegon spoke before Tyrion could. "Jon, how old are you this year?"
"Fourteen."
"You're only fourteen, but you're taller and stronger than many farmer's children at twenty. Why do you think that is?"
"Master Luwin said that bastards just grow faster than other children."
"You're fourteen, and you still believe such lies meant for children?" Aegon let out an undisguised scoff. "Who's older, you or Robb?"
"Same age, I guess." Jon's expression immediately fell. "I don't know my exact birthday, Robb should be a little older."
"You're the same age, but Robb seems taller than you. What happened to bastards growing faster?" Aegon smiled. "Let me tell you. You are taller and stronger than people your age because you eat better than most people in this world! Many farmer's children don't get enough nutrition during the most crucial developmental stage and will never reach your height and build in their lifetime. But you get fish and meat at every meal, plus various vegetables grown in Winterfell's glass greenhouse..."
"Under my Father's rule, hardly anyone in the North goes hungry!"
"Eating enough and eating well are different. For one meal, eating a balanced, hearty meal and filling your belly with coarse grains and porridge have the same effect. But over fourteen years, the difference becomes obvious."
"Is that so? But what does this have to do with reading?"
"Nothing really, but in my homeland, China, there's a saying: Every bite you eat becomes a part of your body," Aegon said. "The rest is—every book you read becomes a part of your soul; every friend you make becomes a part of your social circle."
"And body, soul, and social circle, maybe with a little luck, are essentially everything a person is," he concluded. "So, I will try my best to eat well, I will try to read more books, and I will try to make friends with people worth knowing... Don't ask others why they are reading again. Lord Tyrion may be shorter than you, but his soul is much heavier."
The boy blinked a few times, nodding thoughtfully. The Dwarf on the side had a strange expression. He was often flattered, but it was rare for someone to phrase compliments so artfully and make him feel genuinely appreciated. He looked at the other man with renewed interest, finding this Night's Watchman increasingly intriguing. "Aegon, did you know? At first, I thought you were an accountant for the Night's Watch, then I thought you were a bragging swindler, and then you became an adventurer from another continent... Now you've become a philosopher."
Aegon smiled. "Have I? But these identities don't conflict with each other, do they?"
He was now making every effort to get closer to Tyrion. Whether he could leave The Wall without escaping depended on whether the little Dwarf took his matter to heart. However, although his recent words were meant to please the other man, they weren't made up. Eating well, reading good books, and making friends with good people were his principles before he crossed over. And while the Dwarf in front of him was physically incomplete and had many bad habits, he was undoubtedly one of the most worthwhile people to befriend in this world.
***
Jon was still young. Although he felt that what Aegon said made sense, it was far from reaching a level of identification and inner resonance. After being lectured by Aegon, he felt a bit hungry. He glanced towards the campsite. "Dinner should be almost ready. Let's go back and see."
"Okay, let's go. The good stuff from King's Landing isn't finished yet. I just wonder if there's enough meat to go with the wine."
...
The campsite was already a welcoming sight: people had built shelters against the wind using an old wall, the horses were fed, and the campfire was lit. Yoren sat on a rock, skinning the prey he had just caught. The aroma of thick soup wafted everywhere. Tyrion limped over to Maurice, the servant stirring the hot soup, took the long-handled spoon, tasted it, and handed it back.
"Add a bit more pepper."
Aegon walked to the makeshift small dining table and sat down, ready to enjoy dinner. But just as his butt touched the ground, several whooshing sounds suddenly broke the air, accompanied by several arrows flying in, some landing and even piercing the large pot used for cooking soup. They were under attack.
"Enemy attack!"
Yoren threw down the prey he was skinning, roared, and drew his sword.
—