Chapter 13 - Negotiation & Truth
Manny looked at Mance Rayder and spoke in a calm and steady voice. "There are a few promises we will need from you," he said. "The first is simple. There can be no more savagery or banditry. No raids on villages, no burning farms, no stealing children in the night. Those days must end."
He waited a moment before continuing. "Second, your people will settle in the Gift. You will live like any other folk in the North. By farming, hunting, trading, and building homes. No one will force you to kneel, but you must live as civilized people, not as wandering barbarians always ready for war."
Mance listened quietly, his face unreadable.
"And third," Manny said, his tone firmer now, "we need your strength. The Wall has almost sixteen castles standing empty. It cannot stay that way. Your able-bodied men must help man those castles. You will defend the Wall with us, not against us."
The Lord Commander stepped forward before Mance could reply. "There is one more thing," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "We cannot have only you as the single leader of all the free folk. If that happens, the entire Gift will fall under your rule alone, and the northern lords will never accept that. We need several leaders, be it your trusted chiefs, elders or clan heads, to share the responsibility. Each will speak for their own people, and each will stand by the agreement. No one can come later claiming they were never told or trying to back out with excuses."
Mance understood at once. He folded his arms and asked, "So you want us to be the fodder for you people?"
I stepped forward. "No. We do not want you as fodder. We only want you to live as settled people, not wandering tribes who must steal and raid to survive."
Mance and Tormund exchanged a glance.
I continued, "Live, grow, build, and survive. Then, when the time comes, we will ask you to stand with us. Not for the North or for the South. But to defeat the dead, because they are everyone's enemy. We will not leave you as fodder. We will not send you alone to fight the dead."
My voice grew stronger. "Even now, the North is preparing. Every lord will send more men to the Wall in a few moons. You will not stand alone. The North will stand with you."
Tormund snorted loudly. "Crap. Southerners schemes."
Mance took one step toward me. His eyes were sharp, searching. "Tell me, Southerner," he said. "What do you truly want? These proposals, these promises, these conditions, they sound too good to be true. Like a dream no man has ever dreamed."
I stared right back at him. "We want people to live. Nothing more. And nothing less. And the second reason is this: if thousands of your people die, then thousands more will rise as dead. That makes the White Walkers stronger. We cannot allow that."
Tormund fell silent.
I looked at Mance again. "And I think you also want to keep living. You don't want your dead to rise as your enemy. That is why we made this proposal."
We stared at each other for a long time.
Even Tormund was unsettled. It was a good offer. A very good offer. And that made it frightening.
So I spoke again, this time more directly.
"Do you want your wife to die, Mance? Do you want your future children to die before they grow? Do you want your people to become widows and White Walkers? Do you want all these children to fight a useless war, either against us at the Wall or against the dead, when there is no need?"
Silence filled the tent.
"You can settle," I said. "You can live. You can farm, trade, hunt, make homes. We only ask that you leave banditry and needless killing behind. Is that too much?"
Mance answered slowly, "No. It is not too much. It is too little. That is the problem. You ask for too little. No kneeling. No tribute. No chains. That makes this feel like a trap."
I pointed at the bottom of the parchment. "Look at the seals. Do you think every Northern lord would agree to such a lie? Do you think the whole North, and the Wall would unite only to kill you later?"
I took a breath.
"Or have you truly forgotten why the Wall was raised? Or why was the Night's Watch formed?"
Those words struck the tent like a hammer.
Lord Commander Jeor Mormont stared at me. Benjen Stark froze mid-breath. Tormund blinked. Even Mance Rayder's expression changed.
I stepped closer to the fire so my face could be seen clearly. "Do you really think the ancients were idiots? Do you think they built a Wall three hundred miles long and seven hundred feet high only to keep wildlings away? Do you think they made the Night's Watch only to fight tribes with poor steel and no unity?"
No one answered.
Manny turned to Benjen Stark and asked, "Lord Benjen, tell me, what oath do you take when you become a man of the Night's Watch?" Benjen opened his mouth to speak, but before he could answer, Mance Rayder quietly recited the words from memory:
"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."
He spoke the entire oath steadily, every word falling heavy in the tent. When he finished, a deep silence settled over them. Manny looked around at the faces watching him. "Listen to what it says," he said, his tone calm but firm.
"You keep repeating the words, but you have forgotten what they truly mean. 'Night gathers. Guarding the realms of men.' These lines were written for a purpose older than any lord living today." His gaze moved from Benjen to Mance, then to Tormund and the Lord Commander.
"Ask yourselves, where are the wildlings mentioned? Where does the oath tell you to kill each other? Where does it say the Wall was raised to keep free folk out? Guarding the realms of men or guarding realms of some lord?"
His voice was calm, but every sentence was firm.
"It doesn't," Manny said. "Because that was never the purpose. The oath was always about the night. Only the long night."
"Listen to the name. Night's Watch. They watch the night. They guard against the Long Night. The Wall was built to keep the dead away from the living. Not to keep wildlings away."
Everyone stared at me—shocked, surprised, ashamed.
I pointed to the men on both sides of the tent.
"If even one or two northern lords marched here with their armies, they could crush every wildling camp in a single season. You know this. So ask yourself, why was such a massive Wall needed? Why was a sworn brotherhood created? Why is it called the Night's Watch and not the Wildling Watch?"
The tent fell quiet.
Tormund whispered first, "Night's Watch… watching the night… bloody hell."
Benjen Stark looked pale. As a Stark, child of the Ancient Kings of Winter, this truth had never been spoken aloud to him. He was horrified because it made sense. Too much sense.
Lord Commander looked troubled. Deeply troubled.
Mance Rayder slowly sat down, staring at the parchment again. "All my years on the Wall," he murmured. "All my years with the wildlings. Never once did I hear that."
"It was forgotten," I said. "Because people forget until the dead return. Or some people wanted it to be forgotten."
Mance raised his eyes to me. There was no anger in them now. Only thought and questions.
But Lord Commander was alarmed, "Who are you referring to Manny?" Benjen also paid attention.
Manny, "Those who have a presence from the Wall to the last of the Lords in Done or even in islands. But we need to focus here now. That is for a different time."
Meanwhile Tormund muttered, "So the Wall is not for us at all, it is to keep them out."
Mance nodded slowly. "It is logical. It is the only thing that makes sense."
End of Chapter 13 - Negotiation & Truth