Chapter 76

“What does the letter say?” Tyrion asked curiously.

“Nothing good,” Aegor replied, his brow furrowing deeper. “By the time this letter was sent, Benjen and his patrol hadn’t returned to Castle Black. Mormont dispatched several search parties, but none found any trace of him. He’s now planning a large-scale expedition north of the Wall. The letter asks Yoren to return with new recruits as quickly as possible and demands that I prepare weapons capable of dealing with the Others, cold-weather gear, and portable rations to send north.”

“The Others again?” Tyrion muttered, clearly skeptical. He didn’t believe in such supernatural tales, yet Aegor’s serious tone gave him pause. Over the course of their partnership, Aegor had proven to be a practical and cunning individual. Why would he lie about something so irrelevant to their business? For the first time, Tyrion felt a sliver of doubt creep into his disbelief.

Shaking his head, the dwarf chose to abandon thoughts of the Others for now. “Wait, didn’t we already send the first batch of supplies north? By our agreement, the next shipment shouldn’t be due for another month or two. Why are they rushing us?”

“It’s probably because the ship hasn’t reached Eastwatch yet. After all, it set sail from King’s Landing,” Aegor replied, his tone heavy. “In a couple of days, I’ll have to go check on the progress of the obsidian mine. But that’s my personal matter; no need to discuss it further. Let’s eat and rest.”
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All Aegor wanted was to settle in King’s Landing, run his business with Tyrion, and quietly build his future. But the tides of the plot seemed determined to drag him into their depths, never giving him a moment’s peace.

Benjen Stark’s disappearance was no surprise—Aegor had anticipated it. However, his perspective had shifted since his time at the Wall. Initially, he’d assumed Benjen’s determination to venture north was driven by a sense of duty and stubbornness. But after his discussions with Melisandre, Aegor began to see a larger picture, suspecting that Benjen’s transformation into “Coldhands” might have been orchestrated by the so-called “Old Gods” or the Greenseer.

The thought made Aegor’s skin crawl. If his suspicions were correct, then Benjen had been turned into a tool—a being immune to hunger, impervious to the cold, and invisible to the Wights—to serve the Greenseer’s agenda north of the Wall. And perhaps, just perhaps, the direwolves given to the Stark children served a similar purpose. Were they intended to awaken latent warg abilities in the children, preparing them for some larger, sinister role?

“Stop,” Aegor muttered aloud, pinching his leg to clear his head. “Not everything is a conspiracy.”

He reminded himself of a guiding principle: Just because something can be explained by a conspiracy doesn’t mean it’s actually one. Rather than spiraling into speculation about the Greenseer’s machinations, he focused on practical concerns—specifically, Mormont’s planned expedition north of the Wall.

The Rangers’ expedition wasn’t inherently a bad decision. With over three hundred men, including the strongest and most capable members of the Night’s Watch, they could dominate almost any force north of the Wall. Without the coordination of thousands of Free Folk, no enemy could realistically defeat them. Unfortunately, the real threat wasn’t Free Folk but the undead army—a force the Rangers were utterly unprepared to face.

That disastrous battle at the Fist of the First Men crippled the Night’s Watch, decimating its elite forces and leadership. When the Free Folk launched their subsequent assault, the weakened Watch was barely able to mount a defense, narrowly holding the Wall at great cost.

The thought crossed Aegor’s mind: Could the Greenseer have orchestrated this disaster? Perhaps it sought to weaken the Watch, allowing the Free Folk to breach the Wall and avoid strengthening the undead army.

He shook his head. Such speculation was pointless. Even if the Greenseer had such influence, there were simpler ways to achieve its goals. It could have simply planted the idea in Mormont’s head to let the Free Folk pass the Wall.

“Stay rational,” Aegor told himself. “The real question is: How does this expedition affect me? Should I intervene? And if so, how?”
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From one perspective, the expedition’s failure and the ensuing mutiny at Craster’s Keep paved the way for Jon Snow’s rise to leadership. Aegor had no reason to dislike Jon, but the boy’s naivety and lack of experience meant that Aegor could easily influence him and further his own plans. On the other hand, the situation in the South was already veering off course due to his interference. If the War of the Five Kings didn’t break out, Stannis wouldn’t march north in time to save the Wall. If the Wall fell, and the Free Folk poured into the South unchecked, where would that leave him?

Then again, if the war didn’t occur, the Northern lords would still have the strength and resources to defend the Wall themselves. But if the Northern lords intervened, they’d undoubtedly meddle in the Watch’s affairs. Aegor, stationed in King’s Landing, might find himself sidelined.
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Aegor quickly grew frustrated as he attempted to map out all the possible outcomes. There were too many variables, and even the most seasoned analysts could get things wrong. Without the ability to foresee the future or Littlefinger’s knack for thriving in chaos, he couldn’t possibly account for every scenario.

The simplest solution? Do nothing. Fulfill Mormont’s request, provide the supplies, and let the Watch deal with the consequences.

But then, a spark of inspiration struck him—a memory from the final season of the show in his previous life. In the original story, Jon Snow didn’t convince the South of the undead threat until he foolishly ventured beyond the Wall, captured a Wight, and brought it to King’s Landing.

That plan had been poorly conceived and catastrophically executed, leading to the Night King gaining a dragon and breaching the Wall. But Aegor didn’t care about crafting an epic story. He cared about survival. If he could capture a Wight now—before the expedition—and send it south to Robert Baratheon, it might change the game entirely.

“Why not?” Aegor muttered, his heart racing. “If I’m going to alter the plot, I might as well go all in.”
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