𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪxᴛᴇᴇɴ

❆ ❆ ❆

Half dozen of their friends were lurking outside when they left the King's Tower, where Lord Commander Mormont now made his residence. They'd hung a target on the granary doors, so they could seem to be honing their skills as archers, but Torsten knew lurkers when he saw them. No sooner did they emerge than Pypar called out. "Well, come about, let's have a look."

"At what?" Jon said. Toad sidled close.

"Your rosy butt cheeks, what else?" He coughed up a rough chuckle.

"The sword." Grenn stated. "We want to see the sword." Jon raked them with an accusing look while Torsten only smiled.

"You knew?" The bastard asked and Pypar grinned.

"We're not all as dumb as Grenn." He said.

"You are so." Insisted Grenn. "You're dumber."

"They caught me carving the wolf's head." Torsten said. "Halder helped Pate carve the stone for the pommel."

"The sword!" Grenn insisted, the others took up the chant. "The sword, the sword!" Torsten smiled as Jon unsheathed Longclaw and showed it to them, turning it this way and that so they could admire it. The bastard blade glittered in the pale sunlight, dark and deadly. The boys cheered as he thrust his sword against the setting sun.

"I heard of a man who had a razor made of Valyrian steel." Declared Toad. "He cut his head off trying to shave." Pypar grinned.

"The Night's Watch is thousands of years old." He said. "But I'll wager Torsten Snow's the first brother ever honoured for burning down the Lord Commander's Tower." The others laughed, and even Torsten had to smile.

"Very funny." He said. The fire he'd started had not, in truth, burned that formidable stone tower, but it had done a fair job of gutting the interior of the top two floors, where the Old Bear had his chambers. No one seemed to mind that very much, since it had also destroyed Othor's murderous corpse.
The other Wight, the one handed thing that had once been a ranger named Jafer Flowers, had also been destroyed, cut near to pieces by a dozen swords. But not before it had slain Ser Jaremy Rykker and four other men. Ser Jaremy had finished the job of hacking its head off, yet had died all the same when the headless corpse pulled his own dagger from its sheath and buried it in his bowels. Strength and courage did not avail much against foemen who would not fall because they were already dead, even arms and armour offered small protection.

"We need to go see Hobb about the Old Bear's supper." Jon reminded Torsten, while sliding Longclaw back into its scabbard.

Once the bastard boys were done serving the Lord Commander his meal and got his fire going, they headed to the Common Hall for a meal of their own.
Samwell Tarly sat rocking nervously on his heels. His cheeks were red, and he was wrapped in a heavy fur cloak that made him look ready for hibernation. "Sam?" Torsten offered the boy a smile as they took a seat across from him.

"What is it?" Jon asked. The fat boy looked up.

"I... ah... Maester Aemon wants to see you, Jon." He said, mournfully. Jon frowned suspiciously. Torsten had already began to dig in, his hunger getting the better of him.

"Why?" Jon demanded. "You told him, didn't you?" Jon said angrily. "You told him that you told me."

"I... he... Jon, I didn't want to. He asked. I mean. I think he knew, he sees things no one else sees." Samwell said and Jon shook his head.

"Sam, he's blind." Jon pointed out forcefully, disgusted. He left Samwell and Torsten sitting there. Sam's mouth open mouthed and quivering while Torsten had his cheeks full of food and only stuffed more in.

"He's mad at me." Samwell sighed in disappointment.

"He'll get over it." Torsten swallowed.

❆ ❆ ❆